


Indecent Proposal

by Darmys



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Movie Fusion, Architect Dean Winchester, Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, CEO Castiel, Dean/Cas Big Bang Challenge 2017, M/M, Mechanic Dean Winchester, Motorcycles, Open Relationships, Panties, Road Trips, Smut, Switch Castiel, Switch Dean, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-02-05 02:56:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 61,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12785451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darmys/pseuds/Darmys
Summary: Dean and Lisa have been living together for a year. Dean works as a mechanic and studies architecture at night, while Lisa works full time as a real estate broker but dreams of becoming a yoga instructor.When they win a trip to Las Vegas they hope, with some luck, they can change their financial situation and live the life they have always dreamed about. Instead, they meet a powerful billionaire, Castiel Novak, who makes them an offer – one million dollars for one night with Dean.





	1. A Twist Of Fate.

**Author's Note:**

> I haven’t watched the movie Indecent Proposal for over 20 years and at the time I had problems with it, but I didn't know how to describe why I had problems with it. When I decided that I was going to attempt the DCBB, I knew I wanted to write this story, which is only loosely based on the movie.
> 
> I want to thank so many people who have helped me along the way. First and foremost The Fox my amazing editor, my story would never have been as good or as polished as it is without her. To everyone who read it, or parts of it along the way, your feedback was invaluable. Everyone on Discord what an awesome beautiful team you all are. Friends, loved ones and new people that I met along the way who have supported me, encouraged me and taught me all manner of new things. Wolfchild, Sunshine & Happiness, The Fox, My Princess, darkheartinthesky, ricketyjukeboxer, destimushi, so many people that I could never hope to name them all. Jojo and Muse for all your help and support. I can’t imagine what participating in my first ever Big Bang would have been like without your guidance and support.
> 
> [ sketchydean ](http://sketchydean.tumblr.com/) thank you so much for choosing my fic to create art for, I am overwhelmed by the art that you produced. I’m just speechless, it's everything I could have hoped for and more.
> 
> * * *
> 
> * * *

**Saturday, 8th June 2013.**

The kitchen was immaculate. Dean had spent the past two hours since Ben went to bed cleaning. He’d pulled out the contents of every cupboard and scrubbed them clean. He scoured the backsplash and wiped down all the cabinetry and counters, before sweeping and mopping the floor. He stood in the laundry, rinsing out the mop and debating if he should give the string head a quick bleaching while the kitchen floor dried.

Lisa was out with her work colleagues at some big event he should have been attending with her. However, their sitter caught mono and Dean decided to stay home instead. He’d thought it would be easier to ask Lisa’s friend Brigitta to go with her than it would be to find another sitter last minute to look after Lisa’s son. Not that Ben needed a sitter - he was 14 - but there was also no way Lisa was going to leave him home alone either. Dean tried to put on a front, but both he and Lisa knew he was relieved he wasn’t going tonight. He was tired, and tired of being tired.

He worked full time at Bobby’s auto shop and on top of that, for the past six months, he’d been taking night classes at the local college. All he really wanted to do tonight was stay at home and sit in front of the television. Saturday was the one night he looked forward to so he’d been happy when Krissy called to say she couldn’t make it. He'd called Lisa’s best friend and organized her to pick Lisa up and drop her off afterwards, all before Lisa had arrived home.

Instead of sitting and watching TV like he planned, he’d stress-cleaned the kitchen. He had bought a ring two months ago and he still wasn’t anywhere near ready to ask Lisa to marry him. He thought he should be. They’d been dating for more than two years now, living together for close to one of those. Something just didn’t feel right. Dean loved Ben as if the teen were his own son, that he was sure of, but he wasn’t sure if he was ‘in love’ with Lisa. So long as Ben was still living with them, Dean knew he could make a marriage with Lisa work. Nevertheless, was it fair to enter into a marriage if he suspected it had an expiration date?

He sighed and checked the floor to see if he could walk on it yet. Mostly dry and if he pretended he was playing hop, skip and jump he could reach the fridge, grab a beer and have a clear path to the family room. He’d just twisted off the cap when he heard a car pull into the drive, he headed for the front door, opening it in time to watch Lisa wave goodbye.

“Babe!” She sounded all excited when she turned towards the house and saw him in the doorway. “I won!” She leaped forward into his arms and kissed him.

“That’s great Lis, what did you win?” he laughed at her enthusiasm. She’d almost called her boss to say she couldn’t make it after Dean had relayed Krissy’s message. It was only because he’d told her Brigitta was already on her way over that Lisa agreed to go. Now here she was, bright and bubbling, excited about some prize.

“It’s a trip to Vegas! First class flights, a room at a swanky casino and a $5,000 gift card we can use in any of its gift shops, restaurants and in the casino itself,” she crowed her delight, then grabbed the open bottle of beer from Dean’s hand and took a long swallow.

“That’s amazing! What’s the catch?” Dean asked.

“The catch is the trip is for set dates and we can’t change them. Can you get time off? We fly out in two weeks.” Her eyes went wide and she fluttered her lashes prettily at him.

“I’ll talk to Bobby tomorrow. What are your plans for Ben?” Dean was sure Bobby would give him the time off, even with such short notice. He’d been complaining Dean hadn’t taken a vacation in a couple of years.

“Brig already agreed to take him,” she grinned. “We talked about it on the drive home.”

“Okay, but do we really need to fly? Can’t I drive us instead?” Dean asked, worried about having to get on an airplane.

“Babe, the tickets are for first class, of course we’re going to use them. We’ll get you Xanax or something for the flights.” She finished off the beer and started dragging Dean towards the bedroom. “Come on, I want to celebrate.”


	2. Karma Is A Three Edged Sword.

“Cassie, when was the last time you took something you wanted?” Gabriel picked up a chocolate-coated strawberry from the platter of fruit between them. He bit into it as he lay back on the towel-covered sun lounge. They were in a private pavilion poolside, watching people shout and play in the water. Gabriel didn’t even know why they were sitting at this pool in particular – they were High Rollers and had access to the rooftop pool, away from all the annoying people.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I have everything I need, I only buy things I want.” Castiel had hoped by coming out during the morning and to this pool instead of the rooftop, he could get time away from his brother. However, Gabriel still tracked him down.

“No, you have what is expected of you to have. When was the last time you looked at something and just wanted it, for no other reason than you want it?” A pool boy brought him the drink he’d ordered on the walk to the pavilion.

“Yesterday.”

Gabe spluttered the mouthful of mimosa he’d just taken. “You did? That’s great! What was it? Let’s go buy it.”

“He’s over there, with his wife,” Castiel pointed. “You can't buy people, Gabriel.”

“That's naive, Cassie. I buy people every day.” Gabe reached for another strawberry, watching the couple on the other side of the pool thoughtfully.

Castiel took his eyes off the man he’d been watching for the last hour. “In business, maybe, but you can't buy people when real emotions are involved.”

“So you're saying you can't buy love? That's a bit of a cliché don't you think?” Gabe grinned.

“It is absolutely true.” Castiel didn’t like where Gabriel’s mind was headed.

“As true as seeing a man across a pool and thinking you’re in love with him?” Gabe asked. “Because lust is always for sale.”

“Stop! Stop whatever you think you’re going to do.” Castiel shifted in his lounge chair to face his brother fully. “They are a couple, Gabe. They don’t know you, they aren’t related to you, they didn’t sign up for your games.”

“I can’t remember the last time you were interested in someone.” Gabriel looked his brother in the eyes. “You don’t even think he can be bought. So what’s the harm in me trying?”

“It’s vulgar, Gabe,” Castiel sighed. He knew Gabriel wouldn’t give up now the idea had taken root. “Fine, if you’re going to make me do this, I’m going to be the one to do it.”

“Can I at least stay and watch? If she slaps you in the face, I’d like to be a witness.” Gabe pulled a pair of opera glasses seemingly out of thin air.

“Where did you –?” Castiel started, then changed his mind. “Why do you even have those here?”

“You never know when there is going to be a show. Besides, you’re the one who is always telling me to be prepared.” Gabe stood up and moved to the sheer curtains. “Look, I’ll even pull these so they won’t be able to see me watching.” He tugged on the white ribbons tying the material to the turned wood post.

“I’m not doing it here. If I have to do this, and I’m only doing this to stop you from doing something worse,” Castiel emphasized, “I’ll do it when everyone is fully clothed. This isn’t a bathing suit conversation.”

Gabriel dropped back onto his recliner. “Spoil sport. If you haven’t indecently propositioned him by lunchtime tomorrow, I’m doing it for you.”


	3. Luck Be a Lady Tonight.

“I don’t know Lis, can’t we play poker or blackjack? I know what I’m doing at those tables.” Dean looked at the craps tables with suspicion. The thought of playing a game he knew nothing about made him uneasy.

“The guy I was talking to at dinner said the biggest money can be made here.” Lisa gazed around the room. “What about at that table? There seems to be more space at that one.”

“Probably because that guy is so intimidating.” Dean gestured at the man rolling dice at the table.

A passerby must have heard Dean because he stopped and commented, “That's one of them Novaks, and they’re all damn billionaires. That's one rich guy right there. See the gold coins he's playing with? Ten thousand dollars apiece. Every time he lays one down, ten thousand big ones, and look at how cool he is. That son of a bitch shouldn’t even be allowed to play with chips that size on the main floor. But he got the owner called over, and now there he is, playing his 10k chips out here.”

The guy walked off in a huff. Before Dean had a chance to absorb the information, Lisa walked up and stood next to the man in question. Dean hurried over in time to see Lisa place a $20 chip in the area marked the Pass Line. The guy tossed the dice down the table and one of the casino workers called out “six”. Some puck-looking thing was turned over and moved. Lisa mirrored the High Roller’s actions, placing two more chips behind her first, then another on the nine. When she tried to put one on the eight, she was told only multiples of six could be bet there. She quickly added another four $1 chips to her bet.

The dice were tossed. They added up to nine and Lisa followed the guy's lead again. “Press.” A second $20 chip was placed on her first and $8 in chips was pushed towards her. She quickly picked them up and added them to her rack in front of her. The dice were tossed for a third time and came up six. Lisa’s chips on and behind the Pass Line went from $60 to $128, all of which she collected back into her stash.

“It looks like you’ve changed my luck,” the guy smiled at Lisa. He placed a new pile of gold coins on the Pass Line and, smiling back at him, Lisa followed with a stack of three chips herself. “Blow on them for me?” He held the dice in his hand out for her to do so. Lisa giggled an actual honest-to-god giggle and blew. The dice were thrown, the result an 11. While their winnings were being pushed over he introduced himself. “My name’s Castiel Novak. May I ask your name?”

“Lisa Braeden and this is Dean Winchester,” Lisa nodded to Dean.

“Nice to meet you.” Dean nodded to Castiel, then went back to studying the table. To be fair, the next hour or so passed quickly. Dean spent most of the time learning the game and by the time he had the hang of it, he started to worry about the sheer amount of money Lisa had laid out over the table. She’d been following the Castiel guy’s bets, pressing when he did, adding new bets as he did. Obviously not in the same amounts the billionaire was betting, however Lisa had an awful lot of their money on the table and, from what Dean could tell, it could all be lost with a single roll of the dice.

“Hey Lis, maybe we should look at winding up for the night?” Dean rested his hand on her shoulder. “I’d love to take the two of you out for a drink.” Castiel had heard Dean and he was determined to keep them with him. His Gabriel-imposed timer was ticking. He motioned to the staff that they were all leaving the table and tossed each of them a gold coin, thanking them for their work. He dropped the chips that had been placed back in front of him into his rack and indicated Lisa should do the same. “Purgatory has a Wild West saloon the other side of The Floor. Please join me?”

  


.oOo.

  


The western style bar was inconsistent with the rest of Purgatory’s décor. Unlike the other bars and clubs scattered around the edge of The Floor, the music was playing at a level where people could converse. There were a couple of pool tables scattered along the walls and, noticing how Dean’s eyes lit up upon seeing them, Castiel changed direction away from the booths and towards one of the empty pool tables.

They’d already played a few games when the subject of money and what it could and couldn’t buy came up. Dean lined up his shot, the eight ball in the top corner pocket. If he sunk it, it would be his fifth win in a row. “I guess there are limits to what money can buy.” He took the shot and watched the ball drop.

“Not many.” Castiel circled the table to shake his hand.

“Well, some things aren’t for sale,” Lisa interjected from where she sat at a bar table to the side of where they were playing.

Castiel leant back against the pool table. “Well, let's test the cliché. Suppose...” he held Dean’s gaze, “I was to offer you one million dollars for one night.”

Dean chuckled. “I'd assume you're kidding.”

“Let's pretend I'm not. What would you say?”

“He'd tell you to go to hell.” Castiel had forgotten Lisa was there and glanced at her momentarily.

“I didn't hear him.” Castiel switched his consideration back to Dean

Dean straightened up and moved to stand next to Lisa. “I'd tell you to go to hell.”

“That's a reflex answer because you view the question as hypothetical. But let's say there was real money backing it up.” Castiel moved to the other side of the bar table and sat on the stool there. “I'm not kidding. One million dollars. The night would come and go but the money could last a lifetime.” He picked up his glass of whiskey and swallowed the last mouthful. “Think about it. A million dollars, a lifetime of security, for one night. Don't answer right away. Just consider it.”

“We're positive, okay?” Dean didn’t sound sure of himself, or maybe that was wishful thinking on Castiel’s part.

“Well then, you've proved your point. There are limits to what money can buy.” He placed his empty glass back on the table. “It's late. If you change your mind, this is the key for my room. I’m in the penthouse suite.” Castiel placed the swipe card in the middle of the table. “It’s been a lovely evening, Lisa. Dean, I hope to see you again soon.” He stood and left the bar.


	4. Uncomfortable Truths and Their Consequences.

They stared as Castiel walked away, leaving his keycard on the table between them. Lisa watched his shoulders and wasn’t surprised when she turned to find Dean focused on the guy's ass. She’d known since before they moved in together that if Dean wasn’t outright bisexual, then he was at least bi-curious. She’d been shocked when she found out Dean thought of himself as straight. However, after hearing stories about his father, she understood why Dean clung to that image of himself.

“You want to go,” she said.

“What? NO!” Dean glared at her.

“Dean, we’ve had this conversation before. You’re allowed to be curious and there’s nothing wrong with being bisexual,” Lisa sighed. This really wasn’t the place for this conversation. “We should go up to our room and talk privately.” She picked up the card.

“You’re taking that?” Dean’s voice was pure accusation.

“Well I’m not leaving it here.” She tucked it into her purse and headed to their room. They were either lucky enough to get an elevator to themselves, or not, since the ride up was made in silence, with Dean avoiding looking at her.

Lisa was amenable to having an open relationship with Dean. The truth was Lisa had participated in such a relationship before she dated Dean. Dean held very traditional views on monogamy. Something that was surprisingly at odds with the track record of one night stands and random hookups Dean had prior to them dating.

Lisa started to think this arrangement with Castiel might strengthen the relationship she had with Dean. Show him that what they had together was solid, that ultimately sex was just sex and what they had was built on a foundation of trust and honesty. Now she just needed to convince Dean she didn’t have any problems with Dean having sex with other people, either male or female.

The added incentive of a million dollars was almost negligible. Almost, but not quite.

  


.oOo.

  


“Someone once said, if you want something, to set it free. If it comes back to you, it's yours forever. If it doesn't, it was never yours to begin with. I know one thing. I am yours and you are mine.” They’d been talking in their room for hours and Lisa’s voice was hoarse from all the talking she’d done. “Dean, it’s one night. In the morning you’ll come back to me and we’ll walk away from this.”

“It’s easy for you to say Lis, you’re not the one being pimped out,” Dean spat at her.

“Do you honestly think I’m only interested in the money?”

“Aren’t you?”

“Dean, no! Look, the money is there, I’m not going to lie and say I haven’t thought about what it could mean for us. That money would pay off all of our debts with enough left over that, if we invested it wisely, we could put Ben through college. Let him start his life without a mountain of debt. Hell, if we were debt free, you could quit your job and go back to college properly.” Lisa ran out of steam. “I earn enough as an agent that I can cover our daily expenses. Once you graduate and become the architect you want to be...” She waved her hand, not really knowing where she was going with that statement.

“It’s late Lis and we’ve been going around and around in circles. Let’s just sleep. If you still feel the same way in the morning, we’ll go and take the deal. I need a shower. Do you want the bathroom first?”

Dean stepped out onto the balcony after Lisa entered the bathroom. It wasn’t even something he thought about anymore. Lisa liked to use the bathroom by herself and it was a luxury she rarely enjoyed as a single mother. Kids apparently didn’t have any boundary issues when they were young. Ben had only stopped walking in on her a couple of years before Dean started dating Lisa. So he stood on the balcony and waited.

Lisa poked her head out. It may have been ten minutes later, it may have been an hour, Dean was so lost in his own thoughts that he couldn’t tell. “The bathroom’s free. I’ll meet you in bed?” He grunted and locked the bathroom door after himself.

The hot water system in the hotel was spectacular. He’d had a long shower the day they’d arrived, washing the fear and sweat from his skin after their flight. Not that he planned to be in the shower that long tonight because it was already after three, but while he’d been on the balcony, he’d remembered John finding him behind the bleachers with Aaron.

Dean couldn’t remember the name of the town, but the memory of standing with Aaron under a hippopotamus emblem, sharing the same breath as they looked into each other’s eyes, each silently waiting for the other to make the final move and touch their lips together, was still clear. Dean had been attending the school for a month after his Dad finally agreed to settle down. Sammy was to finish out middle school and then high school in one place.

Their lips brushed, once and again, then Dean heard his Dad call his name and he’d jumped backwards. Too late, John had already seen them. That night Dean had listened to Sam cry as they’d packed all their belongings back into the Impala and driven away.

John never said anything, but Dean knew he was the reason. It had been because of him Sam continued to bounce from one school to the next, never staying long, never able to trust they weren’t going to move again. It wasn’t until Sam was halfway through his sophomore year that John relented and allowed the boys to stay with Bobby. Sam completed high school with flying colors and Dean trained as a mechanic, always aware of his father’s scrutiny.

Dean had trampled down the part of him that wondered what the inside of Aaron’s mouth would’ve tasted like. Down, deep down, the thought buried so far down, that years later all he recalled about Aaron was his name and the hippo emblem.

He turned the water off and wrapped a towel around his hips. Rhonda Hurley had tasted of Twizzlers under the bleachers and Cassie of popcorn. He’d once kissed Lisa beside the bleachers at Ben’s school while they’d waited for him to change after a basketball game. She’d argued that as parents they should be behaving themselves. Lisa had tasted like Coca Cola and later that night she dressed in her old cheerleader outfit and seduced him. He hadn’t been able to explain that he’d just wanted to recreate innocent kisses underneath the bleachers.

He finished brushing his teeth and dried off. He hoped Lisa was already asleep because he didn’t want to talk about this anymore. Because, god help him, he wanted Castiel. He wanted that dark messy hair between his fingers, those chapped lips under his, those blue, blue eyes filled with desire and looking at him. The way that they had been, right before he’d put the keycard to his room on the table and walked away.


	5. Where Did He Learn To Negotiate?

“Sir, there is a Dean Winchester and a Lisa Braeden at reception asking to meet with you.” The palatial suite Castiel shared with his brother came with its own butler, who was now standing in the doorway to the dining room. He should’ve been standing behind Castiel off to one side, ready to spring forward if Castiel needed anything while he ate lunch, but Castiel had dismissed him as soon as his lunch was placed on the table. “They apparently have a room key that you gave to them, however they wished to be announced.”

“Yes, thank you, I know who they are. Would you go down and collect them for me?” Castiel wouldn’t normally send the man off like that, but something about Edgar left him feeling on edge.

“Morning Cassie,” Gabriel said as he entered the dining room.

“Good afternoon to you too, Gabriel. It’s rather early for you to be up isn’t it?” Castiel hadn’t expected to see his brother for an hour or more.

“I could smell bacon.” Gabriel pulled a piece out of Castiel’s Cobb salad and popped it into his mouth. “Yum! It’s like meat candy. Where’s the guy? I think I want a hot fudge sundae for breakfast.”

“I sent him off to collect Dean and Lisa.” Castiel placed his plate in front of Gabriel, who was going to steal half of it anyway.

“Who ’n’ who?” Gabriel asked around a mouthful.

“Dean is the gentleman I propositioned last night.” Castiel stood up to move to the suite’s foyer.

“Oh!” Gabriel picked up another piece of bacon and followed him out. “How did that go?”

“I gave him a key to the room so he could join me last night. He didn’t. I don’t know why they want to see me now.” The sound of the main door opening interrupted him from speaking further.

“Mr. Dean Winchester and Ms. Lisa Braeden,” Edgar announced as he gestured for them to enter.

“Thank you, Edgar. That will be all.” Castiel held a hand up in the universal ‘stop’ motion to Lisa and Dean until after the butler disappeared. “Please come into the parlor.”

Castiel indicated for the couple to sit. Lisa moved to the loveseat and Dean joined her, sitting on her left side. Castiel noted the arrangement. He took the barrel chair opposite Dean, waiting to hear why they’d come.

“Thank you for seeing us, Castiel,” Lisa started, looking quickly at Dean before continuing. “We wanted to know exactly what would be expected of Dean if he agreed to your offer.”

“I’m sorry, that deal was only valid for last night.” Castiel may have been replying to Lisa, but his eyes locked on Dean.

“Oh.” Lisa sounded deflated. “I guess we should go then. I’m sorry for wasting your time.”

“What deal?” Gabriel asked from the doorway.

“It’s none of your concern, Gabriel.” Castiel and Dean continued to stare at each other while Lisa stood up to leave.

“I think I’m going to make it my business. I hate when people say a deal’s a one-time only offer. I’ve taught you better than that, Cassie.” Gabriel flopped into the matching chair beside Castiel. Sensing something may be in the wind, Lisa retook her seat.

Castiel broke his and Dean’s staring by turning to his brother. “I offered Dean money to spend last night with me. He didn’t and I’m flying home tonight. I have already told Inias to log a flight plan and prep the jet. We’re taking off at four.”

“It’s only just gone 12, there’s plenty of time to work out a new deal.” Gabriel turned his attention to the couple. “How long are you booked to stay in Vegas?”

“We fly out on the 2nd.” Lisa looked back and forth between the two brothers.

“Excellent. Cassie needs to be back here for a meeting that same Tuesday.” Gabriel beamed at Lisa, before turning back to Castiel. “Dean can accompany you to San Francisco this afternoon. You can come back a day early and deliver him to...” Gabriel stopped, snapped his fingers and pointed at Lisa. “I’m sorry, what was your name again?”

“Lisa. The original agreement was for one night. Now you’re talking about eight nights?”

“Hmm and you want more compensation.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes. If Dean agrees to a week, then we’ll want ten million.” Lisa was watching Dean. Dean was looking at Castiel. Castiel only had eyes for Dean. Cas tilted his head in question, but as Dean started to nod, Gabriel drew everyone’s attention with a snort of laughter.

“Ten million? No!”

“We were offered one million for one night. Now you’re asking for eight nights, all inclusive.” Dean could tell from Lisa’s tone of voice she was not going to back down.

“And you’re trying for _Pretty Woman_ here? ‘You want days too?’,” Gabriel scoffed. “Look, I’ll tell you what. I can see you’re nice folks. I don’t know what Cassie was thinking offering you a million to start with, but what’s done is done.” He paused. “Five. Not a penny more. You do need to think fast, Cassie _is_ leaving on a jet plane.”

Dean had continued to stare at Castiel, but now he turned to Lisa and placed his hand on her shoulder. “Lis, it’s fine. Five million far exceeds your plans.”

“Okay. How do we know that the money will materialize at the end of…” Lisa waved her hands in the air, gesturing first to Castiel, but not quite finishing the motion to include Dean. “On the Monday?”

“Richard Roman, the owner of this establishment. He has a, well, a room of safes for this type of thing,” Gabe answered. “This type of thing?” Lisa questioned. “Does enough of _this type of thing_ happen in your circles that there is a room dedicated to it?”

“Well, it’s usually used for high stakes wagers, individuals daring each other to do things. Stuff you need someone impartial to hold the book on.” Gabriel stood and headed for the door. “I’ll talk to Dick now and get a safe set up for you.”

  


.oOo.

  


“This is how the room works. Each individual safe has a time lock securing it. I’ve been told this one is going to be set for 10am next Monday?” Richard Roman had met them upstairs next to an unmarked elevator. He’d needed his thumb scanned for the elevator to descend to what he called The Meat Locker. The name of the room didn’t leave Dean feeling any better about what he’d agreed to.

The elevator opened into a small foyer with an archway into a larger room. The floor was tiled in a mosaic of Purgatory’s logo. The walls were top to bottom white subway tiles. The left wall was filled with safe doors, some ajar, others closed, their timer displays counting down until they could be opened. The right wall was a cage like the ones found on The Floor upstairs, where people could buy or cash in chips.

“Once the timer unlocks, the safe can be opened and the inner strongbox can be removed,” Roman pulled one of the doors left ajar all the way open and slid a large metallic case out of it. He placed it on a waiting butler’s trolley. “You’ll note there are three locks on this case. It requires all three keys to be turned at the same time to open.” The case had keys poking out of two of the three keyholes. He pulled a chain from around his neck. “I keep the third key with me at all times.”

Castiel reached forward, put his hand on one of the keys and nodded for Lisa to do the same. Roman inserted his key and, on the count of three, they unlocked the case. Roman pulled his key out and gestured for the others to do the same. A smartly dressed redhead, Charlie if the name badge she wore was accurate, stepped forward and pushed the trolley to the chip cage. She placed her hand on a sensor plate and entered the cage, leaving the trolley and case sitting in front of her teller window.

“If you’d like to transfer the money to the casino’s account, I’ll verify the transfer and pull the chips for you Mr. Novak.” Castiel stepped forward, pulling his phone out and tapping on the screen. “I’m sorry. You’ll need to use the land line.” She indicated the phone and credit card terminal sitting to the side of her window. “The Meat Locker is enclosed within a Faraday cage.”

Dean was distracted from what was happening by Roman talking. “So I understand five million in chips is to be locked in this case?” Roman looked between him and Lisa, who nodded. “Okay, before we go any further, let's get the moral issue out of the way.”

Dean locked eyes with Roman. “Leave that to us.”

Roman chuckled. “No, I was referring to my fee. I get five percent.”

“I am aware of your price, Dick. I’ll be paying you the two hundred and fifty thousand directly.” Castiel was on the phone, but still paying attention to Roman.

“That’s not how it works Castiel. I get five percent of whatever is locked in the case, payable when the case is opened.” Roman’s smile was too large and it bared all of his teeth. It was a politician’s smile that Dean automatically distrusted. After a short amount of time, Castiel hung up the phone. “Has the money transferred?” Roman asked Charlie.

“I’ve just received confirmation that $5,250,000 has been deposited from Mr. Novak. I have the plaques ready.” She reached under the counter and placed ten black plastic cards, each with $500,000 printed in gold.

“These are very special,” Roman said as he walked over and picked up a single card, holding it up for everyone to see. “Each one has its own serial number and a built in GPS tracker. They are accepted by any of casinos on the Strip, where they can be converted to that casino’s chips,” he continued, smiling. “At the end of your wager, the winner will hand these back to Charlie and she’ll transfer the value into their bank account of choice. Exactly the same as if you won them playing roulette.”

Charlie placed one final white plaque marked $250,000 on top of the others. Roman handed her the black card he was holding and instructed her to split it in two. She moved it under the counter and pulled another two white plaques.

Roman placed the nine black tokens and two of the white ones in the case. ”We’re all in agreement there is five million in the case?” Once everyone nodded, he snapped the lid shut. “It will take all three keys to reopen this and once it’s been placed in the safe, no one will be able to access it before the timer unlocks. Charlie, hand me the ledger.” He opened the book to a fresh page and laid it on top of the case. “Now I need you to clearly state what the terms of your wager are, so when we reconvene, we’ll know who the money belongs to.”

“Dean will be accompanying me, while Lisa remains here in Vegas. Dean and I will fly out and return to Vegas on Sunday, during which time Dean will continue to accompany me. He and Lisa won’t reunite until we all meet back here with you. At that time, we will open the case and the chips will be given to Lisa and Dean.”

“And what happens if Dean returns to Vegas early? Or if Lisa departs?” Roman smirked.

Castiel picked up the last white plaque valued at $250,000 and handed it to Lisa. “Then this money is all they will receive. Five percent of what they could’ve had.” He held Dean’s eyes and continued. “That money is yours right now, free and clear. We can open the case and Charlie can transfer the $4,750,000 back to my account. Or we see this thing through all the way to the end.”

Dean looked at Lisa. “I’ve never backed away once I’ve given my word before, but this needs to be your decision too.”

She looked down at the white plaque in her hand and then back up at Dean. “We said everything we needed to say last night. There are a lot of things this little card can do,” she waved it back and forth then pointed at the case, “but that, in there, that is going to change our lives forever.”

“So we meet back here a week from Monday, unlock the case and Lisa and Dean take all the chips, bar my five percent.” Roman wrote quickly in the ledger. “What happens if either of the key holders are not present?”

“I’ll be leaving my key here with Gabriel and he will be my proxy if anything happens to me. Since Lisa will also not be leaving Vegas, there shouldn’t be any reason for her not to be here. So next Monday the money is theirs.”

“And if either Castiel or Dean die during the...” Roman paused, “...encounter?”

“Accidental death or injury? The money goes to Lisa. If I’m murdered and either Lisa or Dean are found guilty, the money is Gabriel’s.” Castiel started to sound annoyed.

“Last one. I’m assuming this arrangement will include some type of sexual element? What happens if you’re unable to consummate?” Roman directed his focus solely at Castiel.

“You want to add a clause for if I’m impotent?” Castiel looked at Roman in pure disgust. “They still get the money.”

“Just crossing all the t’s and dotting all the i’s.” Roman finished writing with a swirl. “Read this over. Be sure you agree it’s accurate and sign at the bottom.” He turned the ledger towards Castiel.

“This seems in order. I’ll sign after Lisa and Dean have both read and agreed. Provided neither of you want something amended?” Castiel rotated the book towards the couple.

Dean skimmed quickly over Lisa’s shoulder. Everything had been written out in plain English, so much so that Dean was worried he was missing something obvious. He wished for a moment his brother Sam was here to read it as well, then dismissed the idea out of hand. He didn’t want Sammy to ever find out he was prostituting himself, even if it was for five million dollars. Dean asked for the pen and signed. He gave the pen to Lisa, who did the same before handing it to Castiel.

Once all three signatures were in the ledger, Roman snapped it closed and handed it back through the grill to Charlie. He picked the case up and placed it in the open safe. “Last chance, before I lock the case away.” Roman met all of their eyes in turn. Apparently liking what he saw, he swung the door closed and spent a moment programing the timer. With a push of a final button, the green light clicked red and the sound of bars snapping into place could be heard.

The timer started its countdown.

“If you’d all like to follow Charlie, we will return upstairs.” Roman pointed to the redhead now holding the elevator doors open. The elevator still felt spacious even with all five of them standing in it. Even though there were no other floors between The Meat Locker and the ground floor of the hotel, the elevator still took several moments of travel time. Dean had noticed the same when they’d been descending and asked Roman about it. “The Meat Locker is underneath a few other sub-basement levels.” Roman stepped out as the doors opened. “I’ll see you all next Monday,” he said as he walked away.

“That took longer than expected. We need to leave in...” Castiel checked his watch as he stepped out of the elevator, Dean and Lisa following him. “Ten minutes. Did you leave your luggage with the concierge?”

“Yeah, I’m ready to leave as soon as you are.” Dean shifted his weight back and forth.

“Good. I need to go back upstairs and see Gabriel for a moment. I’ll meet you by the front doors.” Castiel strode off, leaving the couple behind.

Dean pulled Lisa into his arms and held her tight for a moment. “Remember, nothing can change the way we feel about each other. We’re invincible.” He kissed her gently. “Now take that chip and deposit it into Ben’s college fund. I don’t want you to wait with me.” He placed a finger over Lisa’s lips. “I want my last vision of you to be your ass as you walk away. Something to remind me what I’m coming back to.” Lisa nodded and kissed him. She turned and walked away, an extra swing in her hips.


	6. Have You Ever Danced With The Devil In The Pale Moonlight?

Dean stood off to the side of the hotel’s doors. Purgatory had two ‘main’ entrances, the first facing the Strip and leading directly into the casino, but this side entrance was more sedate and expressly for the hotel clientele. “Dean, are you ready?” Castiel walked up to him. “Is that your only bag?”

Dean picked up his duffle bag and slung it over his shoulder. “It is.”

“There should be a car waiting for us.” Castiel had asked Edgar to organize a town car as he left the suite. He’d gone up to give his key for the lockbox to Gabriel, but stayed for the full ten minutes to give the couple some time to themselves. “If it’s okay with you, can we leave talking about anything until we’re on the plane?” He didn’t know the driver and didn’t want to discuss anything in front of them.

“Mr. Novak,” the Concierge stood before them. “The Silver Ghost your brother ordered for you is now waiting at Valet.” He waved a bellhop over who immediately offered to take Dean’s duffle. He almost refused, but then decided ‘when in Rome’ and handed the bag over.

They walked out and there she was. A gorgeous 1909 Roi-des-Belges Tourer. She was beautiful, painted white with all chrome flashings and heritage red leather interior. Dean spent the entire trip in conversation with the driver about her engine. He was so enthused with the Ghost that he almost forgot they were going to be getting on a plane. He soon remembered when they pulled into a private hanger filled with a small jet Dean was unsure he could even fit inside of.

“Ah, Cas, is that what we’re flying in? Please tell me there is a real plane somewhere that we’re getting on.” Dean swallowed several times, trying to work some moisture into his suddenly dry mouth.

“No, this is our jet.” Castiel looked over at Dean with concern. “You said you had something to take before the flight? There should be water in the office for us.” Castiel pointed at a small room off the side of the hanger. He got out of the car and offered Dean his hand. “Let’s go sit in there for a bit.” Dean opened his own door and got out the opposite side of the car, but he did follow Castiel to the office space.

The room was barely big enough to contain two desks and their chairs. The room was dominated by a large window that overlooked the 111-foot long airplane and the rest of the hanger. The other walls were covered in maps and charts Dean assumed had to do with the aviation industry, but he didn’t look closely at them as he was trying to not think about the metal tube of death he was about to get on. One of the desks had four bottles of water sitting on it. Two were chilled, sitting in an ice bucket, condensation beading sweetly on their sides. The other two sat next to the bucket with no sign of moisture on them. The office itself was cool, so they probably weren’t warm, but Dean reached for the cold water.

“You should use the room temperature water to take your medication. You can have the cold after.” Castiel closed the door behind them and tried to lower the blinds but they were a mangled mess which had been zip tied to their mounting.

“Okay, Cas, whatever.” Dean headed back towards the car, but it was already exiting the hanger. “Son of a bitch! My pills are in my bag.”

“Inias will have taken it onboard. Let me give him a call.” Castiel pulled his phone out and made a short call. Almost immediately, a slender, dark haired man exited the plane carrying Dean’s duffle. They watched the young man cross the hanger in silence. “Thank you, Inias,” Castiel said when he reached them. Dean held his hand out for his bag and Inias passed it to him. “Are we still on schedule?”

“We are, but the Captain would like to head out and be adjacent to the taxiway as soon as she can,” Inias replied.

“Not today. Let her know that we’re going to be spending some time here. When do we need to board to keep our departure?”

Inias checked his watch. “30 minutes, but you could push it out to 40 if you’re okay with us moving while you’re getting settled.”

“Tell Mirabel we’ll be boarding in 30.”

During their conversation, Dean rifled through his bag. He pulled out a yellow bottle and shook out a single pill. He looked up at the plane he needed to board soon and added a second to his palm. Grabbing the water from the desk, he tossed both pills into his mouth and drained nearly a third of the bottle. He put the medication back into his bag and zipped it closed.

Upon hearing the zipper, Inias offered to take it back onboard for him. Inias picked the bag up and, nodding to Castiel, walked back to the plane and disappeared up the stairs. “So Cas, what are we going to be doing out here for the next 30 minutes?” Dean asked.

“That’s three times you’ve called me that now.”

“Called you what? Cas?”

“Yes.”

“Doesn’t anyone else call you that?” Dean was shocked. It seemed like such a natural shortening of Castiel’s name.

“No, people call me Castiel or Mr. Novak.” He shrugged. “Only my brother and cousin use a diminutive and they both use Cassie.” From the expression of distaste on Castiel’s face, Dean gathered he didn’t like their nickname.

“Do you want me to call you Castiel?”

“No,” he smiled. “I rather like Cas.”

“So, that killed a couple of minutes.” Dean snapped his fingers in turn then slapped his right hand on his left fist. “Why aren’t we boarding yet?”

“You said you had Xanax to take for the flight?” Cas paused until Dean nodded. “That takes maybe half an hour to take effect? I wanted to give you time before we boarded. We can go now if you’d like,” he huffed. “Mirabel will appreciate being able to call the tug early.”

Dean moved out of the office and walked across the hanger with Cas towards the plane. “Tug? Like boats?”

“They’re also called Pushback Tractors. We need to be towed out away from the hanger before the engines can be started. Mirabel likes to get them up and running as soon as she can, but then we sit adjacent to the taxiway until it’s our turn to head to the runway.” They reached the plane’s door that also acted as the staircase and Cas gestured for Dean to go first. “Go through and explore, I need to speak with Mirabel.” Cas pointed Dean right, before heading left. Castiel spoke with Captain Mirabel and her copilot, Thaddeus. He didn’t rush, but he also didn’t stay to make small talk either. What he wanted was to rejoin Dean and continue speaking with him.

The Bombardier Global 7000 had six separate sections. The entry area consisted of the galley and the crew rest area, where Inias would sit during this flight, but where a third pilot would sleep on long hauls. A jump seat, wardrobe, and toilet rounded out the area. Castiel mostly thought of the whole section as the crew’s space and tried to stay out of it during flight. He nodded to Inias as he moved past him and drew the curtain divider closed. It wouldn’t stop noise but it would give Dean and himself visual privacy.

The forward cabin and forward mid-cabin were open to each other. The first had four single executive seats, two on each side of the plane with the first row facing the rear and the second row facing forward. Behind them, two double seats faced each other over a height-adjustable conference table, with a credenza along the starboard side of the plane. It wasn’t the standard configuration, but Castiel sacrificed two seats to have, what was for him, an office in the sky. That wall unit contained everything he could possibly need to continue working while in the air.

Castiel expected to find Dean seated in one of these eight chairs. The fact Dean wasn’t troubled Castiel greatly. He crossed to the door to the aft mid-cabin, which was referred to as the entertainment section. It contained a three seat divan that could be converted into a twin bed when Castiel wanted to sleep, but was only done so just before needed. The divan was the last three seats where Dean could strap in for takeoff, but he wasn’t in there either.

That only left the aft cabin, known as Gabriel’s bedroom. When they’d purchased the Attessa, they both agreed they would have one section of the plane they could outfit without any interference from the other. Castiel had his office and Gabriel a permanent bedroom. Instead of a convertible divan, Gabriel had a full-sized double bed. Small for hotel or house, but oversized for air travel. This was where Cas found Dean, clothed only in his underwear, in classic boudoir pose. “Paint me like one of your French girls.” Dean fluttered his hand over his chest and flung his head back, exposing the line of his throat.

“Get up and get dressed Dean. I’ll meet you in the forward cabin for takeoff.” Cas spun on his heel and left the room, door swinging behind him. He continued the length of the plane all the way to the galley. He randomly opened cupboards, not really knowing what he was looking for, still seeing the near-nude length of Dean spread out before him every time he blinked.

“Can I help you at all, Castiel?” Inias stood up from his seat and entered the galley.

“Water.” Castiel braced his palms on the small counter in front of him.

Inias opened the small fridge and pulled a bottle of water out. “Glass? Ice?” he questioned and, at Castiel’s nod, he filled a tumbler with cubes. “Will Mr. Winchester also want a drink?” Castiel muttered something. Inias must have taken it as agreement as he prepared a second tumbler and, after handing the first to Castiel, took the second through the still closed curtain.

The intercom came to life while Castiel took his first swallow. “Mr. Novak, the captain would like you to know our ride has arrived and we’re about to start moving,” Thaddeus relayed. Castiel braced for the initial lurch as they were pulled out of the hanger. He hoped Dean was dressed and seated before that happened. He drained the glass and refilled it with the open bottle Inias had left out. There wasn’t enough for a full glass left in it, but it would do. The plane jolted and Castiel walked back into the main cabin once he acclimatized to its momentum.

Dean had chosen one of the seats around the conference table and Inias was in the process of folding the table away for takeoff. “Hey Cas, I uh, I didn’t mean to make work for, Inias?” He said the name as a question.

“Nonsense, the table needed to be stowed before takeoff, so I would’ve been doing this anyway,” Inias smiled warmly. “ ‘Seats and trays locked in their upright positions’,” he mimicked the line from commercial flights.

Cas took his suit jacket off and laid it over the back of one of the seats. “I thought you’d choose one of these four,” he said, indicating the front four seats. They were all noticeably larger than the one where Dean sat.

“I thought you’d want to...” Dean waved his hand at the seat beside his.

“If you want me to,” Cas didn’t quite ask, but waited for Dean to nod before sitting.

“Mr. Winchester, would you like me to hang up your jacket?” Inias picked up Cas’ and waited for Dean’s.

“Yeah, okay. You can call me Dean by the way.” He stood and stripped off the drab olive canvas coat he was wearing over both a t-shirt and a plaid layer. Cas wasn’t sure how he wore all three in the Nevada heat without melting. It didn’t occur to him that he was wearing the same number of layers.

He waited until Inias passed through the curtain before turning his full focus on Dean. “Why were you naked?”

“Why do you have a bed on your plane? I thought me being naked — which I wasn’t, I was still wearing boxers – was what you were paying for,” Dean lied. They weren’t boxers, they were boxer briefs and they’d clung to him, every curve and line clearly defined. While he hadn’t been erect, it had been clear he was aroused.

“Firstly, you’ve just taken Xanax and I have no interest in sleeping with you while you’re drugged. Secondly, that room is Gabriel’s and I have no interest in sleeping with you in my brother’s bed. Thirdly, you’re not a prostitute. I’ve never paid anyone for sex and I’m not starting with you.” He made a cutting motion with his hand when Dean went to interrupt him. “I’m paying you for your companionship over the next week.” He took a deep breath. “Are you familiar with Geisha?”

“Japanese hookers?”

Cas sighed. “No, Geisha are entertainers who act as hostesses.” He was frustrated and changed tack. “Until we return, I’m paying you for ‘The Boyfriend Experience’, but that doesn’t include any sexual contact. It also doesn’t include second or third ‘base’. I won’t initiate any contact with you past what could be expected on a first date.”

Dean wasn’t sure what to say about any of that, so he went with his cocky attitude and a joke. “I’m known for scoring on my first dates.”

“I’m sure you are, but that’s not who I am. You’ll be lucky if I kiss you goodnight.”

“Are you trying to tell me that you’re not that type of girl, Cas?”

“No, I’m telling you I’m not going to treat you like that kind of girl.” He grimaced. “I am uncomfortable with that analogy. A woman’s right to choose what she does and doesn’t do with her own body is her business. Societal double standards are both annoying and, frankly, distasteful. They’re something I try not to indulge. I hold myself and those around me to a higher standard.”

“Okay then. So, no sex.”

“Not unless it’s something you want for yourself. There is a lot of implied consent in this arrangement. I’m only interested in explicit and enthusiastic consent.” Cas watched, delighted, as a flush of color swept up Dean’s face. He pressed the call button and drained the last of his water, handing over the glass when Inias approached them.

“Hold up.” Dean finished his water and held his glass up. “You can take this too, save you a second trip.” Inias took the second glass and asked if there was anything else he could get them, leaving after Cas declined. “What’s your plan for the next week then, if it ain’t keeping me tied to your bed?”

It was Cas’ turn to blush and he coughed before speaking. “Until a couple of hours ago, it was going to be an average work week. Now I plan to go into the office and clear my schedule as much as possible. I have two meetings I have to be present at or Gabriel would’ve insisted I stayed in Vegas with him. We will also be attending a charity event on Wednesday night.” While Cas was speaking the plane came to a halt and they could hear the engines starting.

Dean gripped the armrests at the noise. Cas checked his watch. “We still have 20 minutes before takeoff. Would you like to wash your face and hands? There is a full bathroom at the back of the plane and you could even have a shower after we’re up in the air.” Dean shook his head, but Cas continued speaking in great detail about all the hidden secrets of the Attessa.

He was able to distract Dean through the waiting and maneuvering out to the runaway. He then gently covered Dean’s hand during the takeoff itself and was surprised when Dean released the armrest and grabbed his hand instead. Cas was reminded of fellow board members talking about how hard their wives held their hands during childbirth and how the men had been surprised at the bone crushing strength inflicted on their hands. Cas thought it must feel very similar to how his hand felt right now. Eventually the plane leveled out and Thaddeus announced they could move freely.

“You said you had several game consoles?” Dean asked.

“Yes, Gabriel demands a lot of attention. Unless he can be sufficiently distracted, I can’t get any work done while we travel.” Cas stood and walked back into the aft mid-cabin where he opened two cupboards filled with electronic equipment and pulled out a drawer filled full remotes. “I have no idea which of these work what but hopefully you’ll be able to sort it out?”

“Yeah sure, shouldn’t be too hard. I can always ask Inias right?” Dean was squatting in front of the unit looked at the different consoles.

“Inias won’t be much use, I’m sorry. This is all Gabriel’s paraphernalia. It only gets used when he’s onboard.” Cas tilted his head to the side. “Oh, you thought Inias was an air steward.” At Dean’s nod, Cas continued. “No, Inias is my left hand. He acts as my steward, driver and quasi-body guard as needed. He liaises between my different PAs and generally makes sure my schedule stays intact. Speaking of, he and I have work to do. We’ll have about an hour before we start our descent.”

The rest of the flight was lost in a haze of games. Dean was excited to find not only did Gabriel have all the modern consoles, he also had an old Atari 2600 and Asteroid, a game he hadn’t played since he was a child. Cas had to stand in front of the TV screen to get his attention, because he’d become so caught up in playing the game. Dean hadn’t noticed the passing of the time, it’d been the fastest flight he’d ever been on. The landing went as smoothly as the takeoff, with Dean again holding Cas’ hand tightly.

  


.oOo.

  


They were in a black Range Rover driven by Inias, headed to see someone called Crowley. Inias received confirmation upon landing that an appointment he’d requested had been granted. “Have you seen the movie The Incredibles?” Inias asked and Dean nodded. “Well, the Edna character was based on Crowley. They included just enough differences that he couldn’t sue, but they are also similar enough that Crowley refuses to admit he was the muse.”

“Don’t bring that up with Crowley. He has a temper and I’m asking him for a favor,” Cas murmured from his side of the car.

“Right.” Dean nodded “No Edna references. Got it.”

The SUV pulled up in front of a nondescript door flanked by two box hedges trimmed into topiary balls. Inias hopped out and opened Cas’ door and Cas then leaned back into the car to help Dean out. “Everything here is about appearance,” he spoke softly into Dean’s ear as he exited the vehicle. Cas offered his hand and they climbed the three steps to the landing. The door opened before they reached it and a short dark haired woman greeted them. “Good evening, Clarence. We weren’t expecting you until tomorrow.”

“Hello Meg.” Cas entered the building pulling Dean in behind him. “I’m here to see Crowley. It’s a matter of some urgency.”

“Really? More urgent than spending time with me?” Meg closed the door behind them. She pointedly looked at their clasped hands. “Well, aren’t you an interesting tidbit. Follow me, Crowley’s expecting you. He’s in his throne room and he’s in a mood,” she warned over her shoulder as she led them down a corridor. A pair of carved wooden doors swung open silently after Meg knocked.

The room was a basic rectangle and there was nothing special about its size or shape. There were no interesting nooks or crannies. What it did have was two lines of three pillars leading from the double doors to an actual dais complete with throne where Crowley sat, waiting for them. The walls appeared to be stonework, but when Dean studied them he found they were extremely well painted trompe l'oeil. He smiled, nothing here could be trusted.

“Castiel. To what do I owe your gracious visit?” His voice sounded like he gargled with cheap whiskey every morning, his Scottish burr the faintest of hints under the well-enounced round vowels of English aristocracy.

“I have a challenge for you.”

“I do love a challenge.” Crowley stood and moved towards them. “And who is this Squirrel?”

“Dean. He’s going to be accompanying me to the Masquerade, but he doesn’t have a thing to wear.”

“And you want me to be his fairy godmother?” Crowley chuckled. “Can’t be done.”

“Have I finally found something that you can’t do?” Castiel asked.

“Of course I can throw something together for him, that’s not the point. This is my reputation and three days isn’t enough time for the detailing that I do. Anyone seeing him will know he has been rushed.” Crowley circled around them like a shark.

Castiel ignored his pacing and stood calmly, directing all of his conversation towards the throne. “You’re right, of course.” He turned to Dean. “We’ll pick something up off the rack tomorrow.” He continued turning around to face the still-open doorway.

“Wait. You’re not putting Squirrel here in some trash and parading him around while wearing one of mine. Meg!” Crowley called out.

“Yeah boss?” She stepped into the doorway. Dean thought she must have been hovering just outside to appear so fast.

“Take him with you and get his measurements. Castiel and I need to discuss price.”

Cas nodded and Dean followed Meg out of the throne room and into another. Again, a dais was the central feature of the room, but this time it was set before a three way mirror and two cabinets overflowing with material swatches and other tailoring items.

“Up you go, sweet thing.” Meg reached for a tape measure, a clipboard and pulled a pencil from behind her ear. “I hope you’ve been measured before. I don’t want you yelping when I take your inseam.”

Dean climbed on to the raised platform and moved his limbs about as instructed. “Why did Crowley keep calling me a Squirrel?”

“You’re just all sorts of tasty, all the hounds’ll be turning their heads when you walk by.” She jotted another number down and threaded the tape around the meat of his thighs, first one then the other.

“Okay, that can’t be normal,” Dean said, confident in his assessment that Meg was taking liberties with his body.

“Mmm but it is,” she grinned up at him. “Tight fitting pants are all the rage recently. If you’re well-endowed you’ll want some extra room.” Her grin sharpened. “So, are you?”

“Are you asking to measure my dick?”

“Would you let me? No? What about a visual inspection then? No one likes a baggy crotch and unless you’re Jareth I don’t think you’d be happy with the other alternative. So how ‘bout you lower your jeans and let a girl work,” she smirked.

“You don’t need to do that.” Cas was standing in the doorway. “Meg likes to tease all the boys and the pendant she’s wearing has a camera.” He skirted the dais and pulled one of the mirrors around to show its back panel, covered in close up polaroids of men, some in their underwear, others nude.

“Now Clarence, you know that’s not what I meant when I offered to move some furniture with you.” She motioned for Dean to step down, leaning in towards him. “He’s my unicorn,” she said, gesturing at Cas. “None of the photos on my trophy wall belong to him.”

“Are you done?” Cas asked.

Meg blew him a kiss. “For now. When are you bringing him back for his first fitting?”

“Tomorrow. He’ll come in when I have my final fitting and again on Tuesday at three. Crowley’s promised to be ready by three on Wednesday.” Cas stepped to Dean’s side and rested a hand on his lower back. “Do you need to cast Dean’s face?”

“I don’t have time to make a mask for him like yours. The...” she paused. “Let’s call them polymers,” she said, her lips twitching at her own lie. “They need a week to cure. We can visually create something for Dean that will compliment your mask, but he’ll need ties to hold it in place.” Cas frowned in disappointment but gestured his understanding. “So I’ll base his colors on his eyes? Or do you want his accent to be your blue?”

Meg pulled a length of blue ribbon out of a cubby and held it against Dean’s forehead. She glared at it as if it had personally betrayed her and pulled out a handful of green ribbons, each a different shade. She held them up one at a time, until on the fourth when both she and Cas smiled. Meg tied that ribbon to the blue and tacked them both to the clipboard with Dean’s measurements. “Get out of here Clarence, I have work to do.”

  


.oOo.

  


“This is your place?” Dean was shocked. They’d left Crowley’s and driven for nearly an hour. Castiel explained he lived in a gated community 45 minutes out of San Francisco, but Dean assumed that would mean some lavish mansion-type abode. Instead, they were parked in the driveway of a relatively modest, two-story family home.

“I gave a list of requirements to a trusted friend, this is what they found,” Cas shrugged. He knew the house wasn’t what most people expected of him, but it met all of his prerequisites. It also annoyed Gabriel that he lived so far out of the city, which brought Cas some small amount of joy. “I’ll see you in the office tomorrow, Inias.” Cas walked to the back of the car and pulled Dean’s bag out.

“I noticed you didn’t bring anything with you,” Dean said, as he took the bag from Cas’ hand.

“There wasn’t any need. When I left for Vegas I knew I’d be coming here for a week and packed accordingly.” Cas unlocked the front door and stepped through, opening a small panel next to the door and deactivating the security system. “Do you want to take that straight up to your room or would you like the nickel tour first?”

“If you don’t mind me leaving it in the hall, I’ll take the tour.” Dean left his bag on one of the benches flanking the front door. “Is there somewhere I can wash my face first?”

Cas walked forward to the door on the right. “There’s a powder room through here, last door.” Dean headed through the mudroom to the half bath and snorted when he caught sight of the wallpaper. The stylized branches filled with small birds was very busy, but somehow seemed to work in the small room. He splashed water over his face and washed his hands, using the towel to dry off before heading back out to Cas.

Cas waved his hand indicating the wide entryway and hall he still stood in. “Welcome to my home. To the left of the hall is a formal sitting room. I don’t use it much personally, but it comes in handy when I have to entertain. This way —” he walked to the end of the hall, “is where I spend most of what little time I get here. Kitchen to the left and family room to the right.” Between the two areas sat a small round dining table and four white lacquered bamboo chairs. “Have a seat. I don’t know about you, but I need something to eat.” Cas walked over to the kitchen and washed his hands in a small sink situated in the island, before opening the fridge.

Dean gave the large open plan area a once-over and headed to the kitchen. The island had a raised bar section with stools and he pulled one out and sat there. “You have a lovely home. It’s very warm and inviting.”

Cas pulled two plates out of the fridge. “I hired a designer normally known for doing beachy themes and colors and gave her free rein on decorating.”

Dean double-checked the rooms he could see from where he was sitting. “I wouldn’t have called this beachy.”

“No, it’s not. She asked me for five words I wanted people to use when they described my home. Warm, inviting, soothing, quirky and luxurious. I think she did a good job.” He walked back to the island and studied the contents of the plates through the plastic wrap covering them before pulling one edge loose. “Rachel left us some sort of casserole.” He reached under the island and Dean heard the unmistakable noise of a microwave being opened.

“Rachel?” Dean asked, as Cas tapped the display, beeps signaling each time he did so before the microwave started.

“My housekeeper. Inias called her to let her know to freshen up your room and have two meals ready for us. You’ll meet her in the morning.” Cas pulled a drawer open and placed a knife and fork in front of Dean and a second set beside him. He walked back to the fridge and pulled a pitcher of lemonade out. “Is this okay?” Cas looked earnest and, even though he would’ve preferred a beer, Dean found himself agreeing. Cas reached into one of the overhead glass cabinets for glasses. He poured each roughly three quarters full, but left the pitcher on the counter in easy reach. The microwave sounded, so Cas pulled the plate out and placed it in front of Dean. “Go ahead and start.” He placed the second plate into the hidden microwave.

Dean pulled the plastic wrap off and breathed in deeply. The meal had carefully been arranged in a ring on the plate, leaving the center empty. There was some type of orange-colored mash around one third of the plate. Dean wasn’t exactly sure what it was so he lifted a small amount with his fork and tasted it. Sweet potato, rich in flavor. The stew on the other side of the plate was full of beef cubes and vegetables. Dean ate half of his plate without realizing Cas had joined him on the same side of the breakfast bar and was silently eating his own dinner.

“This is really good,” Dean said as he placed his cutlery down and reached for the glass of lemonade. Taking a sip, he savored the taste, the tart lemons perfectly balanced with just the right amount of sugar. “Oh, this is really good.”

“You sound surprised,” Cas grinned

“I am. I dunno what I expected, but this ain’t it.” Dean picked his fork back up and continued eating.

“Champagne and caviar? Lobster and steak? We can have those if you want.” Cas looked down at his plate and moved a slice of carrot around in the rich gravy. “Gabriel’s tastes run extravagant. The first night I get back from spending any amount of time with him, Rachel knows to leave me something hearty and homey.” He looked back up at Dean and smiled sweetly. “We should finish dinner. I did promise you a tour.”

Dean looked left through the opening between the kitchen and sitting room. “So that’s your formal sitting room.” He circled his fork over his plate. “This is the kitchen.” He turned his body to sit sideways on the stool, his knees parted to fit around Cas’ stool. “Meals and family room?” He motioned to the rest of the large room they were sitting in. Cas nodded. The wall opposite the kitchen had a TV with a sofa, chaise and chairs facing it. It wasn’t a large screen but it was well suited for watching the news during the mornings and evenings and was clearly visible from anywhere in the three distinct areas of the oversized room.

Dean picked up his plate and ate off it while he looked around the room. “What’s through there?” he asked, swallowing a mouthful of beef and gesturing to a second opening, similar to the one between the lounge room and kitchen, facing the TV area.

“Formal dining. I think you’ll get a kick out of it, nobody ever expects it after seeing the rest of the main floor.” Cas scooped up the last of his meal and popped it into his mouth. Standing, he moved to the sink and quickly washed his plate and cutlery, doing the same with Dean’s after he’d finished eating. Dean watched as he dried the dishes and put them away. Cas picked up the pitcher of lemonade. “Can I top off your glass before I put this back in the fridge?” Dean held out his glass and Cas’ as well.

The lemonade returned to the fridge, Cas wiped down the counters they’d used, including the inside of the microwave. He picked his glass up and took Dean by the elbow, steering him to the dining room.

In contrast to the warm tones throughout the rest of the house, the room was blue, very blue, and dominated by an oversized picture of a horse’s head. “I’m not going to wake up one morning with that in my bed am I?” Dean asked, pointing at the art piece.

“Why would you wake up with a printed canvas in your bed?”

“It’s a horse’s head Cas, like in _The Godfather_ ,” Dean teased.

“I haven’t watched _The Godfather_.” Cas motioned for Dean to head back towards the main hall. “Downstairs is the den and games room, but if you want to grab your bag I’ll take you upstairs to your room now.” Dean grabbed his bag and followed Cas up the stairs. At the top, Cas pointed to a set of closed double doors. “This is my room, your room is over here.” He walked Dean to the front of the house and opened a door to a corner room.

The room was decorated in bold, graphic charcoal over cream with soft sage colored walls. Dean walked through the door and put his bag on the bed. Cas followed him in, moving to the two doors on the right hand wall. Opening the first, Cas revealed a bathroom and pointed to the other saying it was a closet. He walked back to Dean and wished him a good night.

Dean checked his watch. “Cas, it’s barely eight thirty.” He was wide awake and knew he wouldn’t have been able sleep yet. “Do you want to watch a movie or something?”


	7. Dancing To The Beat Of Another Man’s Drum.

Dean woke early. Yes, he was on vacation, but he was so used to being up at 7am that a couple of days off weren’t going to change his body’s internal clock from waking him. He rolled over and looked again at the guest suite he’d been shown to yesterday. He knew what Castiel had said on the plane trip, but Dean had still been shocked when he’d been told this was his room for the duration of his stay.

He got up and entered the en suite to take care of his morning ablutions before getting dressed and exiting his room. He hesitated outside of Cas’ bedroom doors, wondering if he was still asleep. The man said last night that he wasn’t due in the office until 9am. Dean decided to postpone seeing Cas until he absolutely had to and went downstairs in search of coffee and a plan to poke around unobserved.

He padded his way down the stairs and headed for the kitchen. By the time he reached the bottom of the stairs he could smell coffee brewing and hear voices talking. He followed the scent and found a sweaty Cas, dressed in running shorts and wet t-shirt, joking with a blonde woman who was moving around the kitchen as if she owned it.

“Dean.” Cas turned after catching sight of his reflection in the glass doors of the upper cabinetry. His smile brightened as he walked towards Dean, stopping close enough to take his hand and squeeze it gently. “This is Rachel. Rachel, this is Dean.”

“Thank you for dinner last night, it was amazing,” Dean stepped forward and held his hand out.

“Very nice to meet you Dean.” Rachel leaned over the island to shake his hand. “Castiel, it’s after seven.”

“Thank you Rachel.” Cas picked up his coffee cup. “I’ll be back down in 15 to 20. We can talk more then,” he directed at Dean as he left the room.

“Do you have any breakfast preferences and would you like a coffee?” she asked.

“Coffee, yes. Breakfast? Whatever is easiest I guess.” Dean sat on the same stool he’d used the night before.

Rachel pulled a blue cup from an overhead cupboard and poured coffee from the French press sitting on the counter. “Do you take milk?” she asked as she placed the cup and a sugar bowl in front of Dean.

“Black is fine.” Dean ignored the sugar and took a sip. Raising his eyebrows, he nodded his head in appreciation and kept drinking.

“Castiel eats Bircher muesli for breakfast, or would you like something cooked?” Rachel was moving around the kitchen collecting items from different cupboards.

“I really don’t want to be any trouble, but if it’s okay bacon and eggs on toast would be awesome.”

Rachel shooed Dean out of the kitchen area so he wandered over to sit on the sofa and channel surfed until he found cartoons to watch. He didn’t notice Cas rejoin them downstairs until Rachel called him over to eat.

That was the first time he saw Cas dressed in his leathers and Dean’s mouth went dry. He walked to the table and picked up one of the glasses filled with water and drained it. “Mornin’ Cas,” he growled, his voice gone husky. “I thought you’d wear suits to work,” he said inanely.

Cas looked down at what he was wearing – armored leather pants and a soft Henley shirt. He’d slung his jacket over the back of the chair he was about to sit in. “I do, but I also ride to the office and I haven’t found a suit that’s practical to wear on a motorcycle. I change at work.” He sat down and Rachel brought over their breakfast plates. “Inias will be coming to pick you up around ten, if that’s okay with you? I thought we could have lunch together.”

“Sure, whatever you want Cas.” Dean tucked into his plate, not wanting his food to go cold before he had a chance to eat it. They ate in comfortable silence, Dean only breaking it when he took a mouthful of juice to find it wasn’t the orange that he expected, but rather a mixture of pineapple and orange.

All too soon, they’d both finished eating and Cas stood to take his dishes to the sink where he rinsed his bowl but otherwise left everything else, Dean assumed, for Rachel to wash. He hadn’t realized at the time but Rachel had disappeared somewhere while they were eating. Cas stopped at the table and picked up his jacket. “Do you want me to walk you out?” Dean asked.

“That would be nice.” Cas smiled at him brightly and Dean felt that flutter of something in the pit of his stomach. He stood and followed Cas to the mudroom, where he opened the closet and pulled out a pair of riding boots and a helmet. He unlocked the door into the garage and propped open the door by adjusting the auto-closer. “I’ll have Inias bring you a set of keys when he picks you up and I’ll add you to the security system tonight when we return. I really should’ve done that last night, I’m sorry.” He ducked his head and walked down the stairs into the garage proper. One side was empty, but the side closest to the stairs had Cas’ bike. He pulled a bunch of keys out from his pocket and fiddled with them. The garage door opened and one key came loose. Cas pocketed the rest and used the one remaining in his hand to start the bike.

Dean shifted his weight back and forth for a moment, but when Cas lifted his helmet Dean rushed forward and, cupping his hand around Cas’ cheek, he kissed the other. “Have a good day at work Cas,” he muttered, as he took a few steps back from the man.

Cas aborted pulling his helmet on, looking at Dean in surprise. “Dean you don’t have to...” He didn’t get any further as Dean interrupted.

“I know, you said that you weren’t going to touch me. You never said that I wasn’t allowed to touch you.” He scuffed at the concrete floor. He looked up, meeting Cas’ gaze. “Am I allowed to touch you?”

Cas tilted his head. “Yes.”

Dean nodded. “Okay then.”

“Okay then.” Cas smiled and pulled his helmet on, raising the face shield. He nimbly fastened the helmet and pulled gloves on. “I’ll see you for lunch.” He mounted the bike and, after walking it out of the garage, put his hand back in his pocket. The door closed, but not before Dean watched Cas ride off.

  


.oOo.

  


Dean spent the morning downstairs in the den, where he’d gone to get out of Rachel’s way. She was polite enough, but she’d eventually asked Dean to entertain himself. He went down into the basement, remembering Cas had mentioned a larger screen down here for watching movies on although the night before they’d just used the TV in the family room. Dean was pleasantly surprised to find Cas had a pool table in his rec room.

As forecast, Inias arrived precisely at 10am. He gave Dean a set of three keys plus a remote to open the garage door. Dean pocketed them and climbed into the passenger seat of the Range Rover. The drive to Cas’ office building took nearly an hour. Dean didn’t know what to talk to Inias about, so when he didn’t offer any conversation Dean happily to passed the trip listening to the radio. The only problem was Inias had it set to some latest hits station and Dean was already over listening to _Blurred Lines_. He was just thankful they were in a “no repeat” hour, so he’d only had to listen to it once.

Inias pulled the SUV into the underground parking. “I’m to take you straight up to Castiel’s office,” he said as he parked in a bay reserved with the Novak name. They got out and walked to the bank of elevators. Inias pulled out his phone while they waited. “Hey Hannah, we’re in the parking garage on our way up.” He disconnected the call after she said something Dean couldn’t hear. The elevator doors opened and Inias swiped a card prior to hitting the button for the top floor.

The elevator didn’t make any stops until it reached their destination. The doors opened on a small reception area, where a desk seating a man and a woman sat. The blond haired, blue eyed man, youthful in appearance, looked up as they walked past without stopping. He smiled a brief hello to Dean before returning to his computer. Inias led Dean down a wide corridor to a corner office where a woman sat at an impressive desk in an alcove to the side of the door. “He’s still in the boardroom,” she said to Inias as she stood and walked around the desk. “You must be Dean. My name is Hannah.” She offered her hand to shake.

Dean returned the firm grip then Hannah walked him to the oversized door and gestured for him to enter. “Can I get you a tea or coffee while you wait?”

“That’s not needed,” Dean started to tell her, not wanting to interrupt her work.

“It’s no trouble, I need a fresh cup myself,” Hannah smiled.

“Okay, if you’re sure it’s no trouble, a cup of coffee would be great. Black, no sugar.” Dean looked around the office. It was large, very large. Bigger than some of the hovels he’d stayed in as a kid with his father and Sam. The door opened on to a sitting area with a couch and chairs surrounding a low table. To one side of those was the desk, to the other, a table and chairs to seat six. Windows on the north-west and north-east walls gave a panoramic view from the bridge all the way around the bay. Not knowing what to do with himself, Dean stood at the glass wall and watched the boats on the bay.

He heard the door open behind him and, expecting Hannah, was pleased to find Cas. “Hello Dean.” Cas walked across the room and placed a couple of manila folders on his desk. “We should get going.” He held his hand out to Dean.

“Ah,” Dean rubbed the back of his head self-consciously, he didn’t feel like he was in a position to counter Cas’ wishes but... “Hannah offered to make me a coffee and I would feel kinda rude if I just left.”

Cas hummed. “We can stop by the kitchen and pick it up.” His smile brightened his whole face when Dean nodded and took his hand. They exited Cas’ office and followed a different corridor than the one Dean had been brought through. Two turns later they found Hannah exiting the kitchen with two mugs in her hands. “Let me take that. Do we still have travel mugs?” Cas took one of the cups from her hands and walked around Hannah into the kitchen.

“Thank you for the coffee, Hannah,” Dean said.

“You’re welcome.” She grinned at him. “Best we go in and rescue the kitchen.” She followed her boss through the door and Dean ducked in, not knowing what else to do. It the short time Cas had been in the room by himself, he’d managed to open just about every cupboard. Hannah started closing them. “Travel cups are in here.” She pulled down a corrugated cardboard cup. “Do you want one to go?” She waved a second one at Cas.

“Yes please, Hannah.” Cas took the cup from her hand and, holding it over the sink, poured Dean’s black coffee into it. He pulled a lid out of the drawer Hannah opened on her way to the coffee machine. She sat the second cup in place and hit a button. The sound of beans being ground could be heard over the noise of Cas washing the mug he’d just emptied.

Hannah sipped at the coffee she still held in her left hand. “How long are you out of the office for?” She picked up the travel cup Cas abandoned on the counter and handed it to Dean.

Cas dried the mug and put it back in a cupboard. “I wasn’t planning on coming back today. Is there anything I need to know?”

“The UK conference call is tomorrow morning 8am sharp.” Hannah pulled a carton of milk from the fridge and added the smallest dash to the now-filled cup on the machine before popping a lid on it and handing it to Cas.

“I’m planning on getting in by seven-thirty, I don’t want to see you here until eight.” Cas wiped down the sink and bench.

“I’ve already let HR know I’m starting at six tomorrow. I need to organize with Muriel prior to the meeting starting. Unless you think stuff just happens by magic?”

“I’ll see you in the morning, Hannah.” Cas turned and rolled his eyes at Dean, gesturing for him to exit the kitchen and turn left. Cas took the lead, because they’d entered the kitchen from the right and Dean was walking new corridors again. They stopped at another office with Cas sticking his head through the open door and saying something to Inias about driving himself.

From there they made one more turn and were back in the main reception area, where Cas tapped the button calling an elevator. The same young man looked up and smiled at Dean as they entered the elevator and Dean nodded back at him as the doors closed. The ride down was filled with Cas asking how his morning was. Since Dean really hadn’t done anything with his morning, it was a stilted conversation at best.

The elevator opened on the ground floor and Cas walked them out of the building. “There’s an Irish pub a couple of blocks down this way,” Cas pointed west.

  


.oOo.

  


Cas treated their lunch like it was a first date. He was attentive to Dean, made small talk on the walk to the pub and asked for a quiet table away from most of the lunch crowd, which was only just starting to trickle in since they’d arrived so early. The conversation had been a trading of basic information.

Cas talked about his brother Gabe and how his father was absent for much of his childhood, but didn’t speak about his mother at all. Dean shared that both his parents had passed away, but he was close to his brother Sam. When they’d talked about where they’d grown up, Dean glossed over exactly how much he’d moved around as a youth, mostly talking about living with Bobby in Sioux Falls, while Cas discussed being sent to St Paul’s and then attending Georgetown before finishing his joint MBA/MPP-ID at Harvard.

This should’ve naturally led to a discussion of what they did for a living, however Cas quickly deduced Dean was, maybe not intimidated, but definitely uncomfortable while Cas had talked even just minimally about his education. So he changed the topic, asking Dean about his car, remembering the animated conversation Dean had engaged in with their Silver Ghost driver.

It was a good choice. Dean waxed poetic about his Baby. His entire demeanor changed when he described how he’d been gifted the car by his father as a teen and how he later rebuilt it from the chassis up. When Cas asked why the rebuild was necessary Dean quietly said a semi-trailer had t-boned the car, nearly destroying the Chevy Impala and killing his father. By that time their plates had been cleared and the pub was getting noticeably crowded. Cas suggested they leave and paid the bill on their way out.

They headed back to Cas’ office building for the Range Rover and Cas drove them to Crowley’s for their fittings. On the drive, Dean asked Cas about the bike that he rode. “It’s a 2012 Ducati 848 EVO. It’s not anything special, not like your car, but it gets me from point A to point B.”

“I’m surprised you ride, I’d’ve thought you’d be chauffeured everywhere,” Dean commented.

Cas laughed. “This is going to sound trite, but the bike gives me a sense of freedom that my highly regimented life is otherwise lacking.” He was somber by the end.

“Nah, I get that. There’s nowhere as free as behind the wheel of my Baby. Nothin’ like an open road in front of me.” Dean grinned and Cas returned the smile. “How’s she ride? She looked pretty sweet this morning.”

Cas looked back at Dean. “Do you ride?”

“Not as much as I’d like. Sam ‘n’ I used to dirt bike on the weekends ‘fore he left for Stanford. Bobby made us get our licenses so we could ride through town. I still ride with Sam when he visits, but really, I’m waiting for Ben to turn sixteen. Lisa won’t let me take him out ‘til then.”

“Ben?” Cas asked casually as he parked in front of Crowley’s.

“Lisa’s son. He’s 14 now, bright ‘n’ full of energy. I’d love to take him out, but she’s...” Dean stopped, his eyes narrowed. “Lisa was a single mother for a long time and she did the best she could, but she hovers you know?” Dean got out of the car and waited for Cas at the bottom of the steps.

“Hello, Clarence.” The door opened, killing any further discourse on the subject, unless they wanted to include Meg in their conversation.

Dean shot a quizzical look at Cas as Meg turned to walk inside. “Clarence?” he mouthed. Cas rolled his eyes and twitched his shoulders in a shrug, causing Dean to smother a chuckle they followed her. The next hour and a half had been an ordeal, both because of Meg’s snarky commentary and with learning the correct way to wear black tie. She ended up giving him a card for a boutique he would need to visit prior to his next fitting to purchase the correct socks and shoes. Apparently they would affect his final fitting, so he had to have them before the following afternoon.

At the same time as fitting him in the tuxedo, Meg also fitted Dean for two suits. A simple black and a second that looked black to Dean, but Meg called charcoal. Side by side, the difference in color was apparent, but Dean mentally called them ‘black’ and ‘less black’.

“I thought I was just getting the monkey suit? Why the other two?” he asked Meg during the fitting. She brushed the questions off, more intent on making sure Dean knew how to operate cufflinks and shirt studs. She also had him practicing how to tie a pointed bow tie.

Cas spent his time with another of Crowley’s employees, but once they were together again, Dean wanted answers. “A good suit is an investment. If I want to take you somewhere nice you’ll need to dress accordingly.”

Dean grumbled somewhat at that, but Cas shot down all of his concerns. As a prominent member of the local business community, Cas had a reputation to uphold. Networking unfortunately included making appearances at locations where he would be amongst others of his social standing. To see and be seen.

“The ball on Wednesday, a luncheon on Friday and if a suit is ready for you, I’d like to take you to my club tomorrow night.” Cas expertly wove them through traffic and over a bridge, not the Golden Gate, Dean knew he’d recognize that one, but he didn’t think it was the same bridge Inias had used that morning.

“Hey Cas, where are we going?”

“I need new leathers and seeing as I have the afternoon free I’m going to pick some up.” Cas looked over and smiled. “Since it was a nice day, I took the scenic route.”

They drove for a while longer before pulling up to some sort of motorcycle mega store. It evidently sold everything a bike enthusiast could possibly want, from boots to helmets and everything in between, including the bikes themselves. Dean wandered around while he waited for Cas until a new 2013 Ducati caught his eye. He sidled up to the Streetfighter 848 and ran his fingers over her lines. “Well hello, Princess,” he whispered to her.

“You said you could ride earlier. That’s not too much bike for you is it?” Cas asked as he walked towards Dean.

“No, she’s beautiful.” Dean hadn’t taken his eyes off the black beauty, so he didn’t notice Cas waving a salesman over. Or the muttered conversation Cas had with him.

“Dean, I’ve just started organizing to get you this bike for the week, so you can get around without needing Inias or the Rover.”

“Cas, a bike is too much,” Dean turned to protest, only to find Cas standing next to him. He coughed, startled.

“It’s just something for you ride for the week,” Cas grinned. He’d planned to buy Dean a bike since their earlier conversation. He was looking forward to getting in a few rides with Dean while he was there for the week. Maybe a ride through Napa Valley on Friday afternoon and spend the night somewhere cozy. Hmm thinking about it, maybe Thursday night would be better. “We could head up to wine country on Thursday afternoon.” Cas walked around the bike, contemplating its lines. “We could even ride to Vegas. Take off Saturday, stay in Santa Barbara overnight?” Cas dangled the bait.

“Just for the week,” Dean confirmed. “No commitment?”

“I’ll take care of the paperwork. You go and grab the gear you want and get at least a few pairs of pants.” Cas walked back to the counter where he’d left the new leathers and directed the salesman to exchange them for two pairs of armored denim for himself, along with instructions to help Dean. Cas wanted to make sure he got everything he’d need.

“How soon will we be able to take the bike?” Cas asked the salesman.

“Are you paying by direct deposit again?” Castiel had purchased his own bike at this shop a little more than a year ago. “The paperwork will take about 90 minutes and after that, as soon as we have confirmation that your payment has cleared, tomorrow morning.”

“Thank you Neil, I’ll want the bike delivered to my home tomorrow. You still have my details on file?” Castiel wasn’t paying him too much attention at this point, knowing Neil would need time to pull up all the required paperwork on his computer for printing. Watching Dean pick out a helmet was much more interesting.

“We will, yes.” Neil stopped the random mouse clicking he’d been doing. “I wonder?” His voice trailed off as the mouse clicking started again. “Oh, that’s very interesting.” There was a smile in his voice. “Mr. Novak I believe I just shaved about an hour off your purchase time.”

“How did you manage that?” Castiel turned back to the grinning salesman.

“We already have all of your details on file, so provided none for your details have changed, I can print off the previous documentation. I’ll need to print a new second page to change the bike to the Streetfighter and the last page for your signature. Obviously we’ll need to notarize every page with today’s date, but everything else will already be done.”

“Excellent, Neil,” Castiel turned back to watching Dean, who was now picking out boots.

“I can get this all started for you and, if you like, I can make a desk and computer available for you so you can arrange your insurance?”

“No need. Once we’ve completed the paperwork I want you to scan it and send it to this email address.” Castiel pulled out one of Inias’ business cards. “Inias will be able to take care of the insurance.”

“Of course, Mr. Novak.” Neil stood and moved to the printer to collect the sheets of printed paper filling the tray.

Cas pulled out his phone and called Inias, relaying quickly he was purchasing a new bike and the paperwork would be emailed shortly. “I want you to add it to my insurance policy and have Dean listed as the primary driver. Also, have him added as a secondary driver for the Rover and my EVO, make sure he’s covered as of today.” Cas paused while Inias responded. “Use my address for his place of residence for now. I’ll have him come into the office tomorrow, you can talk to him about anything you need then. Thank you Inias.” Cas ended the call.

“Okay, these are the Streetfighter’s details and I can show you the VIN if you’d like to double check it?” Castiel shook his head, so Neil continued. “I need you to initial and date the bottom of this page. Then check each subsequent page and sign your full signature and the date until the final page. While you do that, I’ll check Dean has a full set of gear and get him to take the bike out for a test ride.”

“Thank you, Neil.” Castiel was nose deep in the paperwork, carefully checking everything was correct before signing as requested.

Neil crossed the showroom floor. “I’d suggest armored jeans, because they’ll be more comfortable to walk around in,” he spoke up as he reached Dean.

“Yeah that’s what...” Dean indicated the salesman who had been helping him.

“Ezra,” Neil supplied. Ezra was carrying items to the counter.

“Yeah, Ezra said the same thing.” Dean picked out a pair of jeans and headed into the changing rooms.

“If those fit, I’ll need you to put the boots back on as well,” Neil called through the curtain. “Then we’ll find you a jacket so you can take the Streetfighter out for a test ride.”

  
  
  


  


Once they’d finished buying the bike and purchasing riding gear for Dean, Cas took them to a fancy grocer. He walked into the meat department and started looking at different cuts of meat, asking Dean what he’d prefer for dinner. “Are we cooking tonight, Cas?” Dean asked.

“Yes, I try to cook for myself at least once a week. I’m fairly good at cooking a medium rare New York Strip.”

“That’s a very specific temperature and cut.” Dean grinned. “What if I wanted a Rib Eye?”

“I haven’t cooked one before, but I’m sure between the two of us we could figure it out.” Cas returned Dean’s grin.

“How about I teach you how to make my world famous burgers?” Dean wasn’t sure why he offered. He never let anyone in the kitchen while he made them normally, not even for a glass of water. That was how closely he guarded his recipe. But here he was offering to teach Cas.

“World famous?” Cas questioned.

“Hells yes! You’ll agree once you’ve tried them.” Dean’s grin grew. If there was one thing he was sure of, it was his burger making abilities.

“Well then, I accept. What do we need to get?” Cas waved his hand, indicating the entire store was at Dean’s disposal. Given how much money Dean just witnessed Cas spend, it probably was.

“Well, first we’re going to need both ground beef and pork.” Dean flagged one of the attendants over and discussed the different grades of meat that were on offer before making his choices. Two paper-wrapped parcels were handed over and Dean placed them into the basket he’d picked up on his way into the store. “We need the spice section next.”

The two men walked side by side through the aisles until the found what Dean was after. “What spices do you already have in your kitchen?” Dean looked expectantly at Cas. At his blank look, Dean changed tactics. “Why don’t I just buy everything I might need, just in case.” Dean started pulling jars off the shelves and adding them to his basket. The last things he added was a box of pink salt flakes and a rainbow pepper grinder. “Cheese, eggs, fresh produce and the bakery section and we’re done.”

Cas trailed after Dean. He was a man on a mission, examining the different wedges of cheese looking for something Cas wasn’t sure he could explain. The last two blocks looked identical to him. They were the same type, same brand, practically the same size, but Dean found one lacking, or the other superior in some manner. The cheese became the first item to go into the basket Cas carried. Eggs followed, then onions, garlic, mushrooms, tomatoes, baby spinach and arugula.

“Nearly forgot bacon,” Dean smiled at him and off they went back to the meat department in search of bacon, either speck or streaky. Dean bought both, grinning excitedly at Cas when he found out they were available.

They swung past the sauces aisle and Dean added a couple of bottles to his basket. “Last but not least, buns.” But like the bacon, not just any buns would do. Dean spent as long choosing the right buns as he had selecting the heirloom tomatoes in Cas’ basket. Finally, Dean was satisfied he had everything and they made their way to the checkouts.

“It wouldn’t normally be this expensive.” Dean started unloading the two baskets. “But I bought all these spices so you won’t need to get them next time.”

“It’s fine, Dean. I’m looking forward to finding out how you’re going to use all of these,” he nodded at more than a dozen individual jars.

“Most of those are going to end up in here.” Dean placed an empty jamming jar on the checkout. “I make my own dry rub and use it in my burgers.”


	8. Lead Me Not Into Temptation.

Dean stretched out his hand and patted it across the bedside table, searching for his buzzing phone by feel alone. Not able to find it, he tossed the covers back and sat up. The phone wasn’t on the side table at all but on the desk, meaning he needed to get up to turn the alarm off. Switched off, he tossed the phone on his bed and continued into the bathroom.

He brushed his teeth and took a quick shower before dressing. He wanted to be downstairs in time to share breakfast with Cas. Last night had ended too early and Dean wanted to spend more time with him. He dressed quickly and headed downstairs, stopping halfway as the front door opened and admitted a hot and sweaty Cas. “Hey Cas.” Dean coughed to clear the huskiness from his voice.

“Hello Dean,” he answered, waiting at the bottom of the stairs so they could walk through to the kitchen together. He headed straight to the counter where a jug of filtered water sat with a glass and a towel. Cas filled and drained the glass before he picked the cloth and wiped the moisture from his face and neck. “You didn’t need to get up this early.” Cas’ full attention was on Dean now.

Dean continued past Cas and into the kitchen where he started pulling out things for coffee. “Boyfriend experience,” Dean said, his head in a cupboard, so he missed Cas’ face fall at his words.

“Of course. I’m going up for a shower.” Cas left quickly.

“I was going to...” Dean realized he was alone, “...make coffee.” He knew from yesterday morning that Cas drank a cup of coffee after his run but before his shower. When Cas mentioned the previous night that he would be getting up earlier than normal to get his run in before he needed to leave to get to the office by 7.30am, he’d also let slip he’d be leaving before Rachel started.

Dean decided then he would get up and make Cas his coffee and organize breakfast. It was only muesli but Dean wanted Cas’ morning routine to run smoothly. He wasn’t sure why Cas had run off before the coffee was ready and he wondered if he should’ve gotten up earlier, had the coffee ready and waiting for when Cas came in from his run.

Dean continued puttering around the kitchen waiting to hear the sound of the water being turned off upstairs. The house was so well insulated for sound that it was only because Cas’ bathroom was located directly above the sitting area that Dean could tell when the shower was running. Dean put the kettle back on the heat to bring the water back up to a boil before he filled the French press.

He left it to brew while he poured milk into a decorative jug and carried both to the table where he’d already placed two bowls of toasted muesli, along with cups, cutlery and sugar bowl on the table. All that was missing was Cas. Dean sat and waited for Cas, plastering a smile on his face when he heard Cas’ foot falls on the stairs.

“I promise, I brew a mean pot of coffee.” Dean was half turned in his chair facing the hallway as Cas rounded the staircase. Cas looked up and was caught in Dean’s gaze. His feet bypassed the mudroom door, taking him back into the back room with Dean and the table laid out for breakfast.

“This was unexpected, Dean.” Cas sat and poured milk over the muesli and stirred.

“You said last night you needed to be up ‘n’ out before Rachel got here. Breakfast is important.” Dean busied his hands pouring coffee into both their cups, adding the smallest dash of milk in Cas’.

“You know how I take my coffee?” Cas sounded surprised.

“I’m observant,” Dean grinned, adding milk to his own bowl. “So, you need to be out the door soon, I guess?” He picked up his spoon and scooped up some of the cereal.

“I have time.” Cas checked his watch. “I was expecting to get food in the city, so eating here will save me some.” The not-silence of two men eating descended over the table. Cas swallowed his last mouthful of coffee and walked his dishes to the sink. “I’d like to help you with these, but I really need to get going.”

“Let me walk you out.” Dean added his own dishes to the sink and followed Cas to the garage and the Range Rover.

“Your bike should be delivered this morning, between nine and ten.” Cas opened the driver’s door but hesitated getting into the vehicle. “I should be finished up by lunch. Do you want to ride in or should I send Inias for you?”

“I should be good,” Dean answered.

They stood awkwardly for a moment. “I should be going.” Cas climbed into the Rover but still held the door open. “You have the keys I gave you yesterday and we set up your code last night for the security system. Rachel should be here soon.” Cas was now stating facts, filling the space between them.

Dean leaned in and kissed Cas on the cheek. “Go ‘fore you’re late.” He shut the Rover’s door and stepped back away from the car. Cas nodded at him through the window, started the engine and backed out of the garage. He paused in the driveway for a moment, evidently hitting his remote to close the garage door as it slid down into place.

Dean walked back to the kitchen and cleaned up the mess he’d made making breakfast. He was still in there when he heard the front door open and Rachel enter the kitchen. “Good morning, Dean,” she greeted him. “I can finish that up if you want to go and start your day.” It was a clear dismissal and Dean tried not to feel offended.

“Is there anywhere I can set up that won’t be in your way?” he asked.

“Where ever you want is fine, I can work around you.” Rachel dried the dishes Dean had washed, putting them away.

“Oh, okay, I’ll uhmm...” Dean looked around the room. “I’ll just be in the guest room then.” He left, hurried up the stairs and closed the bedroom door behind him. It was 6.30 in the morning and he had nothing to do for at least two and a half hours, provided the guys delivered the bike right on nine. He flopped across the bed and picked up his phone.

He wasted the time researching the best way to get to the shop Meg had told him about yesterday. He apparently needed new shoes to wear with the tuxedo she was crafting for him. Along with the correct socks - he snorted at the thought - and new underwear. She’d made fun of his generic five-in-a-pack boxer briefs yesterday and handed him a business card. Dean was under instructions to visit the place before his next fitting this afternoon.

Dean mapped and re-mapped the route from Cas’ to the shop, then from the shop to Cas’ office building, until he was sure he could ride it without needing to stop and check the directions. He still had more than an hour to kill so he downloaded some mindless gem matching game and lost himself in that.

A knock on the door had him checking the time - a quarter past nine. “Dean?” Rachel’s voice called through the door. He stood up and opened it. She smiled tightly. “There are gentlemen downstairs with a motorcycle requiring your signature.” She stepped back from the doorway, waving at the stairs. Instead of following him back down, she entered the room behind him.

Dean clattered his way down the stairs, worried he’d upset Rachel by holing up in the room when she obviously needed to get in there. He shook it off, making a mental note to talk to Cas about it later. He’d never had a housekeeper before, the closest he’d ever come had been the cleaners at the cheap hotels he’d lived in during his childhood. Nowhere near the same, but Rachel reminded Dean of those no-nonsense women who always treated him and Sam like they were in the way.

He opened the front door and stepped out on the porch. Parked in front of the house was a small truck with its rear doors swung open and two men maneuvering a ramp into place. “Hey guys.” Dean walked over to them.

“You Dean Winchester?” The older of the two asked, tugging at the ramp to ensure it had locked in.

“Yes, do you need to see ID?” Dean reached for his wallet.

“Yeah, if that’s okay. Let me grab the paperwork from the cab.” The guy switched his attention to the other guy. “You okay to get the bike?” The younger one nodded, hopping up onto the ramp and disappearing into the truck. Dean followed the first guy to the cab with his South Dakota driver’s license in hand.

  


.oOo.

  


Dean changed into the gear Cas bought him the day before. The jeans and leather jacket looked normal at first glance but both had armor plates and other safety measures designed into them. The boots, gloves and helmet had been placed in the cupboard beside the garage door for easy access, all Dean needed was to tuck his phone, wallet and keys into his pockets. He put the card from Meg into the inner pocket of his jacket. She’d told him he’d need it to get past the front door.

He headed downstairs and said goodbye to Rachel. It seemed rude to just leave without saying something to her. He pulled his riding boots on and carried his gloves and helmet into the garage. The door was still open and Princess sat in a pool of sunlight. Exiting the building, he hit the button on the fob he’d been given yesterday to close the garage door and swung his leg over the bike, turning her ignition and listening to her engine come to life.

Princess wasn’t his Baby, but the feel of her between his legs was something else entirely. He pulled his helmet and gloves on and took pleasure in the sound of her roar as he took off down the street.

Weaving in and out of traffic was an experience Baby would never be able to replicate. Dean wouldn't want to do a cross-country trip on Princess, however he wouldn’t want to drive Baby through the center of San Francisco either. He was already in love with the Streetfighter and wasn’t looking forward to giving her back at the end of the week. The ride, at less than an hour, was too short and Dean was eager to spend more time on his Princess, but for now he had an errand to run.

Dean pulled into the street he was looking for. The shop should be around here somewhere, this block anyway. He parked Princess and walked along the street looking for building numbers. He found what he was searching for just off an alleyway. A black door with a small brass plaque ‘Mr. & Mrs. Stark’ fastened at eye height. He pulled Meg’s card out and checked the details one final time before knocking on the door.

The door was opened by a woman who could’ve been anywhere from a stunning mid 30’s to a very well preserved early 50’s. It was impossible to tell with her gorgeous long honey blonde hair and impeccable makeup. “Can I help you?” she asked.

“I was told to come here by Meg Masters.” Dean held out the card and had it taken from his hand. “My name’s Dean Winchester,” he introduced himself.

“Did Meg forget to tell you that you needed to ring ahead for an appointment?” She looked down at the card and checked the back where Meg had written and signed her name.

“She didn’t tell me that, no,” Dean sighed. “Is there any chance I can get in now? Meg insisted I see you before my fitting this afternoon.” He tried for his most winning smile.

She opened the door further. “I’ll need to check with Don. I’m Maggie, welcome to our little shop. You can have a seat in the parlor.” She pointed to an open door to the left and she continued down the hallway. Dean loitered in the entry way for a moment, not sure of what the situation was, but moved into the front room as he’d been told.

Two wingback chairs flanked a small side table in front of a set of closed drapes. Dean knew there wasn’t a window being hidden as the front door was the only feature of the brick wall outside. There’d been windows above on the second level, with the usual fire escapes clinging to them, but at street level there had only been the door.

The rest of the room held two glass display cases, which he had to stand over to see the contents. The first held ladies gloves, four pairs, all would be elbow length, white, ivory, cream and black. If he’d seen the three light-colored gloves separately he would’ve called them all white. Sitting next to each other they were clearly different. The other held men’s gloves, all wrist length, all black. Only the materials differed. One was obviously leather, but of such a fine grain that Dean knew they would be butter soft. The other two pairs were both cloth, one so matt that it drank in the surrounding light, the other with a faint shimmer to it, like the cloth Meg had used for his lapels.

“Mr. Winchester, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” the man spoke as he entered the room. “I’m Don Stark. Let’s have a seat and talk about what you need.”

“Call me Dean.” He held out his hand to shake and then took the offered chair. “I’m sorry I didn’t call for an appointment. Meg didn’t tell me I needed too.”

“Meg often thinks the world dances to her tune, but then, don’t we all? You don’t need to worry about that however, Meg called for you yesterday.”

“How did she know when I’d get here?” Dean interrupted anything further Don was going to say.

“She didn’t, but she told me you’d be here before your session with her at three.” Don smiled broadly, showing off his perfect teeth. “Why don’t we start with the list she suggested?”

  


.oOo.

  


Dean pulled up to the security gate of Cas’ building. He leaned over and hit the button to be let in, removing his helmet so his face was visible to whoever was watching the CCTV feed. “Can I help you?” It was hard to tell if the voice belonged to a man or woman.

“Dean Winchester here to see Castiel Novak,” he spoke as clearly as he could.

“Please come through.” There was a short buzzing noise and the gate swung open. Dean rested the helmet between his legs and coasted forward down the ramp. As the underground garage opened up before him, he spotted a section filled with motorcycles to the left. Next to it was another section, twice the size, full of bicycles and between the two they took up a quarter of the space on the level. He parked next to the bike he recognized as Cas’ and went looking for the bank of elevators. He pressed the up arrow and the doors opened almost immediately. He stepped in and hit the button marked foyer. He remembered Inias needed to use a security card yesterday before he’d selected the top floor.

The elevator doors opened on to a large expanse of marbled nothingness. A large desk floated in the middle of the room disconnected from everything. Two women sat at the desk, a blonde wearing a headset that she spoke into while quietly tapping at the keyboard in front of her. A brunette stood as he walked towards them, holding her hand out in welcome.

“Hi, I’m Ingrid. I’ve let Hannah know you’re here to see Mr. Novak. I believe someone will be down in a moment to collect you.” As she spoke, another elevator opened and Inias stepped out.

“Dean, good to see you again. I’ll take you up.” He placed his hand against the elevator door, preventing it from closing. Once Dean entered, he swiped his card and hit the button for the 22nd floor. “Sorry about having to wait in reception. Only employees are allowed swipe cards and visitors are required to be accompanied at all times.”

“Sure, no big deal.” Dean rocked on his feet, watching the numbers change as the elevator climbed upwards.

“I’ll need you to come to my office first so we can finalize the insurance on the new bike. Castiel has requested that you’re added to his policy as a nominated driver,” Inias explained.

“Is that really necessary?” Dean rubbed the back of his neck.

“Possibly not, but Castiel requested it.” Inias shrugged. “Besides if — touch wood — anything was to happen, it’s better for everyone if you’re on the policy.”

Dean thought about that for a moment and shifted his grip on the helmet he still carried. “That makes sense, I guess.” The elevator stopped and the doors opened.

“I’m this way.” Inias stepped out first and walked off, not stopping to check to see if Dean followed. Dean smiled at the same young man seated at the desk as yesterday and received a smile back. Inias lead them down the opposite side of the desk that they took yesterday and he paused at an open doorway. “This is my office,” he stated as he walked in and sat down behind the desk. Dean sat in one of two chairs the other side of Inias’ desk. “This shouldn’t take too long, everything I need is on your license. If you’re okay with handing it to me?”

Dean placed his helmet on the other chair, pulled his license out and handed it over. “So...” Dean sat, uncomfortable, tracing the armor plates in his jeans with his thumbs.

“This won’t take a moment. I had everything open, waiting for you.” Inias sat Dean’s license on his keyboard. His entire focus switched between it and his monitor as he entered the details he needed. “There, all done.” He handed the card back to Dean. “I’ll take you around to Hannah now.” He stood and indicated Dean should precede him out of the office. “Just quickly, so you’re aware. You’ve been added to two policies. Castiel’s personal policy where you’re listed as the main driver for the new motorcycle, as secondary driver for the EVO and on the company policy where you’re a nominated driver for the Range Rovers.”

“You said ‘Rovers’ like there is more than one,” Dean didn’t quite ask as they headed over to Cas’ office and Hannah’s desk.

“There’s a fleet of them. All of the executives have one as part of their package, and because of how the policy is set up, if you’re a nominated driver you’re covered for all of them.” Inias walked them back out and around the entry way and passed the blond boy, who again smiled at Dean as he walked by.

This time Dean stopped. “Hello, I’m Dean.” He held his hand out to shake.

The young guy stood and shook his hand. “I’m Alfie. It’s a pleasure to meet you. This is Gail.” The woman at the other end of the desk waved a distracted hand at Dean as she continued staring at the spreadsheets on her monitors. “I think you’re being left behind.” Alfie nodded his head towards Inias, who had continued along the corridor.

“I guess I am,” Dean nodded his head in acknowledgement and hurried after Inias.

Dean caught up right as Inias reached Hannah’s alcove. “He’s in his office and is expecting you, if you want to go in,” Hannah told him. Dean nodded and entered the office.

“Hello Dean.” Cas looked up from his computer, a happy smile on his face. “Give me a moment and we’ll head out.” He clicked his mouse a few times and stood up. “I just need to change.” He opened a discreet door and disappeared.

A few minutes later Cas stepped back out into his office dressed in leathers and carrying his helmet with the gloves tucked inside. “I used to shower and change on the fourth floor where we have a small gym for staff to use, but I was told it was off-putting for staff. So now I have a private bathroom,” Cas explained as he checked his computer once more before heading out. “Hannah, I’m out until the Thursday meeting. Hold everything that isn’t an emergency.”

“Who decides if it’s an emergency?” she asked.

“You do.” Cas grabbed Dean’s elbow and tugged him forward. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

  


.oOo.

  


They spent three hours riding around the bay area, not worrying about where they were going, just enjoying chasing each other through traffic. Lunch was at some small hole-in-the-wall place in Daly City that made twelve different types of grilled cheese sandwiches. They parked their bikes and ate, sitting on a low retaining wall, in a park across the street.

From there they rode back across the peninsula to a tiny ice cream cart right on the water’s edge where they bought cones. Another chase, at legal speeds but with more weaving than they should’ve done, ended with them back at Cas’ office building.

“Why are we back here?” Dean asked as Cas swiped his card for the security gate.

“We’ll have suits to pick up this afternoon,” he answered before kicking off and heading down the slope. They parked the bikes and rode up in the elevator. Cas told Alfie he wasn’t there as they walked past him to Cas’ office. “Hey Hannah, just dropping stuff off.” Cas lifted his helmet as they continued past his EA and into his office. “I’ll just be a moment.” He entered the bathroom he’d used earlier in the day.

Dean sat his helmet with gloves tucked inside on the sofa and headed back to Hannah’s desk. “Does this happen often?”

“You’d need to be specific.” She didn’t look up from whatever work she was doing.

“Cas saying he was done for the day and then coming back in.” Dean leaned on the edge of her desk.

“Is he in? It looked like he was just changing clothes and switching vehicles.” She still hadn’t looked up from her work.

“So I take it that he does do this a lot then,” Dean mused.

“Often enough,” she shrugged.

“Okay, I’m ready.” Cas exited his office. He couldn’t have been gone more than three minutes, but he was fully changed back into a suit and tie. “Nothing important I need to know about?” he asked Hannah.

“Nothing I’m not dealing with.” She wasn’t looking up for Cas either, which must have meant something other than rudeness to Cas, because he stepped around her desk to look over her shoulder.

“Oh, hmmm,” he muttered as he read. Then, pointing at her screen, “That’s all good, but make sure that you spell it out for Adler. I don’t want him to have any wiggle room on this. CC me and I’ll support you fully.”

“Thank you, Castiel,” she smiled at her screen as she continued typing.

“Time to go.” Cas grabbed Dean by the arm and walked him out, stopping at Alfie’s desk on the way. “Dean’s bike is going to be here overnight. Inias has the details for it, make sure it’s on Security’s list.”

“Yes, Mr. Novak. Is there anything else you need?” Alfie smiled at Dean, making him feel included in the question.

“Tell Inias I have the Rover, but I’m intending to be at the club tonight so he can pick it up from there in the morning.” Cas tapped the desk with his knuckles and left for the elevator bank. Standing in the carriage, Cas looked down. “Remind me to stop at a shoe store after we leave Crowley’s.”

“Why?” Dean asked.

“Those,” he pointed to Dean’s riding boots, “aren’t appropriate footwear for a suit.”

“Oh, I, uhmm, you see, Meg set me up with a friend of hers,” Dean stumbled. “I bought shoes this morning because Meg needed me to have the _right ones_ for the tux. Anyway, I got a couple of pairs and they’ve been sent to Crowley’s for my fitting.”

“I’m sorry, Dean,” Cas said as they walked to the Range Rover. “I imagine Meg thought she was spending my money when she told you where to shop.”

“Probably, but it’s cool. Good clothes are an investment, right?” Dean grinned, trying not to think about the small fortune he’d put on his credit card that morning. He’d actually been surprised it hadn’t been declined.

  


.oOo.

  


Cas couldn’t find a parking space in front of Crowley’s so they ended up three blocks away on a random side street. Walking back, Cas again took Dean’s arm. Which, after hiking up the second steep block, Dean appreciated. Cas hadn’t broken a sweat and his breathing hadn’t changed at all as they’d climbed the hill, but standing on the stoop pressing the doorbell, Dean struggled to hide that he was not used to this type of exercise. It wasn’t that Dean wasn’t fit, but hills really took it out of him when he wasn’t used to them.

“Hello boys.” Meg opened the door and stood back to let them through.

“It’s not like you to be opening doors during business hours,” Cas commented.

“Now, don’t be like that Clarence,” Meg grinned. “I knew it was Loverboy here and we have so much to talk about.” She gestured for Dean to head down to her fitting room. “If you want to wait in the showroom, I’ll bring him out in the first suit.” She left Cas and sashayed her way to Dean. “I got your delivery earlier. Didn’t you make some interesting choices?” she winked. “They’re waiting for you inside.”

There were boxes sitting on the desk tucked in the back corner of Meg’s fitting room. They’d all been opened and the contents sat half in, half out of the boxes. Two pairs of shoes, a fairly standard black, plain toe, Balmorals and a pair of formal pumps with a flat bow, a selection of cufflinks and shirt studs, a pair of suspenders, several pairs of socks, one of which was made of silk and lastly, a small box of underwear, showing a white, black and a cherry red.

“I asked about handkerchiefs, but Don said you’d already taken care of them?” Dean itched to hide the underwear but knew Meg had already seen them, so he turned his back on them and studied the two suits and the tuxedo sitting on dressing stations.

“Pocket squares,” Meg corrected and pointed at the correct pieces of material sitting next to Dean’s purchases. Snowy white, a green that matched Dean’s eyes and a blue that would match Cas’. “We need to get busy. Strip down and put on that cute pair of red knickers. There is a privacy screen.” Meg rolled her eyes. “No cameras today, I promise.”

Dean double checked Meg wasn’t wearing any necklaces, then grabbed the red pair and stepped behind the screen. He’d learnt yesterday he needed to pick his battles with Meg, or she’d wear him down by sheer attrition. He stripped down to nude and slipped the satiny material up his legs. He took a moment to adjust himself – after all, there was no need to look overly excited. Dean walked back out using his best cocky swagger and stepped up onto the raised platform. He preened at his reflection in the three mirrors facing him.

“Clarence is just going to eat you up in those,” Meg noted as she handed Dean the pants belonging to the first suit. “By the way you do realize that I take all my photos with the polaroid camera behind you?” Dean did not turn and immediately look, although he did sneak a peek later. “No one on my wall is there without their agreement.”

Dean smoothed the satin skimming his hips. He’d never come across stretch satin underwear for men before. He marveled at the design that allowed for no seams or elastic ridges, just smooth edges that would be invisible under any item of clothing he wore over them. The legs of the short shorts were barely long enough to cover his ass fully, yet the front pouch left no doubt that these were meant for a man to wear. Seeing them on, Dean almost wished he’d bought the other two colors in the same style.

“Dean! Pants.” Meg was still holding the suit pants out for him to put on and he blushed nearly the same pink from the tips of his ears all the way down his naked chest. He pulled them on, followed by the undershirt and shirt. Meg helped him with the cufflinks, a pair of solid silver letters. He’d been able to find both a D and a W at Don’s. “Your initials? Really Dean?” Meg’s venom was softened by the smile that twisted her face as she said it.

She handed him a pair of the thin cotton socks and the Balmoral shoes to put on and once Dean tied his laces, Meg handed him the jacket and positioned him in the middle of the platform. “Shouldn’t I have a tie?” Dean was back to preening in the mirrors again. He looked damn fine in a suit even if he did say so himself.

“I don’t need to check the fit on the tie, but I’ll make sure that you’re dressed properly before you leave.” Meg swatted at Dean when he tried to turn while she was still checking the final fit. “Dean, be still.” He huffed at her, but did stop moving as she pinched and tugged at the material. “Okay, let’s go show Clarence.”

Cas sat in a room that scarily reminded Dean of _that_ show Lisa watched, _Say Yes To The Dress_. Meg had him walk along the short runway and back again. Cas came forward and opened Dean’s jacket to look at the lining. “I went very traditional for Dean, so while the suit won’t stand out in a crowd, he won’t look like a sore thumb either. Of course, the suit is helped by Dean himself,” Meg chattered.

“What does that mean?” Dean asked.

“You’re wearing the suit, not letting the suit wear you,” Cas answered.

“Even guys who have worn suits for years can still let a suit swallow them, but you look as comfortable in that suit as you did in your jeans. It makes the suit look better,” Meg explained.

“They’re just clothes.” Dean was puzzled. Was he meant to stand differently, walk differently in a suit?

“Exactly.” Meg grinned her devilish little smirk at him. “Your clothes will always look better on you when they’re just clothes.” She turned her full attention to Cas. “The other suit is exactly the same, just in charcoal. Do you want to see him in that as well? Or can I just test the fit and move to the ‘black tie’? The more time we have on that, the better.”

“I trust your eye for detail Meg. If you need the time, take it. But send him back in the charcoal. We’re headed to the club after we leave here.”

“I’ll have him back to you as soon as I can,” Meg winked and hustled Dean back to her fitting room. “Shoes, pants and jacket off,” she ordered, then handed the - as Dean thought of it - less black of the two suits to him to put on. “Shoes too. I want to double check all the pants are hemmed to the correct length.” After the second suit, there were a second set of pants for each suit. Once they were all tried on and passed Meg’s exacting standards they switched to the black tie.

“I know when you tried this on yesterday you complained it was all random pieces of fabric and pins,” Meg spoke as she handed Dean the pants first, “but you’ll be happy to know all the little elves and pixies worked overnight and today they’re definitely pants. No random pins. I double checked myself.”

Dean grunted. The last fitting involved several unpleasant pricks in a couple of delicate areas of his body. He pulled the pants up his legs and was surprised to feel two tiny buttons on the inside of the pants. “Why are there buttons over my hips?” he asked, rubbing his thumbs over them. They were small enough he could barely feel them on the outside of the pants and it was only because he knew they were on the inside that he could find them at all.

“‘Black tie’ is evening, semi-formal attire, Dean, it has very strict rules. Forget everything you think you know from going to prom. The buttons you’re fingering are to hold your shirt and waistcoat in place.” Meg held out the silk socks and the pair of formal pumps for Dean to put on. “Normally, we’d take two months and six to seven fittings to complete your suit, but we’ve been given fewer than 70 hours. So please understand when I say time is of the essence.”

Dean shut up, allowing Meg to do whatever she needed. Arms up, arms down, sit, squat, stand up straight and tall. The only time Dean made a noise was when Meg pinched his bottom when she was done.

“Okay, let’s get you dressed for tonight,” Meg told him after handing the last item of his tuxedo off to a waiting seamstress with a detailed set of instructions. Dean stood on the platform in just his cherry red boxer-briefs, so used to Meg’s poking and prodding over the past two hours that he didn’t notice his near nudeness. “I suspected Clarence would want you all dressed up when you left today, so I took the liberty of having everything washed, dried and pressed as soon as your deliveries arrived. Thanks for getting them to me so early.” She gestured for Dean to put back on the socks and undershirt that he’d worn while she’d fitted the business suits.

“Can I ask you a question now?” Dean asked.

“Sure, kiddo, what do you want to know?” Meg handed him a crisp white shirt.

“Cas made a comment about buying off the rack like it was an insult. But the suit you’re dressing me in, you bought yesterday morning and you have only adjusted it to fit me better.”

Meg handed him a pair of pants and held his belt until he was ready for it. “Clarence was insulting Crowley by saying he’d buy you a tuxedo off the rack. You would’ve ended up in some hack job, single vented jacket, no braiding on the pants. You could’ve ended up wearing a belt!” Meg’s face remained passive, but there was a hint of pure disgust in her voice. “Or even some colored cummerbund.” A visible shudder went through her body.

“And all of those things are bad?”

Meg handed him the waistcoat then jacket as she spoke. “Yes, they’re all horrendous for black tie. But these are business suits and, so as long as they are well-made, they are fine to buy off the rack. Provided you then have a tailor you trust adjust them.” She stepped forward and inserted the blue pocket square and tied the matching tie in a full Windsor knot.

“Why blue? Wouldn’t the green look better?” Dean gave her a wide eyed look guaranteed to show off his green eyes.

“You bought silver cufflinks and the green tie has gold threading through it. You’ll want to pick up gold cufflinks before you wear it.” Meg started repacking Dean’s purchases. “You’ll need to dress here before the ball, as I’m going to need every moment I can squeeze between now and then to have your suit look presentable tomorrow night.” Meg held up the two remaining pairs of underwear. “Which do you want to leave here?” She moved her hands in a weighing motion.

Dean looked at the black pair. They vaguely reminded him of a pair of Lisa’s Spanx. After a year of living with her, Dean had listened to several angry monologues regarding the lack of structure in undergarments. So Dean was well aware his stretch satin black boxer-briefs were whisper thin and weren’t a support garment. Like the red pair he was currently wearing, they’d sit low on his hips, but the black pair would cling to him all the way to his mid-thigh.

He looked at the much skimpier white pair and, pointing at them, said, “The white for tomorrow please.” He blushed at Meg’s low whistle.

“That’s a mighty fine choice there Dean,” Meg purred.

Dean checked his clothes one more time in the mirrors, mainly to avoid looking at Meg as she sorted his purchases into two groups - those he would be taking today and those that he would need to leave behind for tomorrow. A ribbon tied together the boxes she handed to Dean and she swung the garment bags containing the black suit, the second pair of charcoal pants and the remaining business shirts over her own shoulder, along with one holding the clothing Dean had arrived in.

Walking back to Cas, Dean was surprised to find that wearing a well-fitted and good quality suit did change how he moved. It was subtle, but he could feel he stood taller and moved with more confidence than when he’d walked in earlier. He tightened his grip on the boots he carried in his other hand.

“I’d like him as early as possible tomorrow. Can you be here no later than four? I’ll make sure there’s a room you can use, of course.” Meg spoke, but Dean wasn’t sure if Cas was listening to her at all. His eyes hadn’t left Dean from the moment he’d walked into the room and they were full of hunger. Dean could feel the weight of Cas’ desire enveloping him like a blanket draped across shoulders during winter – warm and comforting.

Wasn’t that a kicker though, thought Dean. To think of another man coveting his body as being comforting. However, it wasn’t just another man, was it? It was this man, standing before him, eyes dark with need, yet holding himself back as he stiffly turned to Meg and said, “What time do you want us here?” Meg handed Cas the garment bags and walked them to the door saying 2pm would be perfect.


	9. Too Much Good Whiskey Is Barely Enough.

If Dean was a cartoon character he would’ve been floating down the stairs, held afloat by his nose as it homed in on the scent of coffee. Dean, however, was human and hungover, so he stumbled down them instead. The only similarity was his nose following the smell of freshly brewed coffee.

“Good morning Dean,” Rachel greeted him as he entered the kitchen. “Would you like some coffee?” He nodded and spotting Cas on the sofa in front of the TV and went and sat beside him.

“Have you drunk any water this morning?” Cas asked him, his voice full of concern. Dean shook his head, slouched into the couch and rested his head against the back. Cas stood up and went and got a jug of filtered water from the fridge and two glasses. He poured them both half full and placed one of the glasses into Dean’s hand. “Did you drink any of the water I sent you to bed with?”

Dean opened one eye, tilting his head so he could give Cas the stink eye. “Yes Cas, I drank all my water last night. Thank you very much. Now can you shut up and let me be miserable?”

Rachel placed a tray holding two cups of coffee and a box of Advil on the table in front of them and left the room. Dean could hear her climbing the stairs. “Is she going up to the guest room?” he asked.

“Probably. I think us being here is disconcerting for Rachel, I’m not usually at home while she’s here,” Cas commented as he typed out a reply to the email he’d just read. “Is there anything you want to do today?”

“Try and remember what we did last night,” he joked. Dean remembered arriving at Cas’ private club, remembered having to be signed in as a guest and seeing Sam’s name listed as a guest the previous day. He’d panicked about Cas adding his name and Sam seeing it in the future, because a quick look over the two open pages had shown Dean that Sam was a semi regular lunch guest. After a short whispered conversation, Cas had entered Dean’s name as Michael Colt.

They’d been shown into a large library with small tables flanked by armchairs scattered around the room, with none sitting so close that a casual conversation at one table would be overheard at the next. The table they were shown to had two wingback chairs that were angled towards a corner of the room. Once they were seated it would be impossible for anyone to see who was sitting there without coming right up to their table.

They’d started the evening doing a whiskey comparison. Three different whiskeys from around the world, an Irish Whisky, a Scotch and a Bourbon. All used to make three different cocktails. They’d started with a Whiskey Sour, followed by an Old Fashioned and lastly a Godfather. They’d each been brought out as set, three glasses on a slate board, marked with the name of the whiskey in each glass.

Dean remembered eating dinner, because they’d had Beef Wellington served with roasted potatoes, a carrot puree and green beans with almonds. His mouth was watering just from the memory of the meal. He recalled they’d picked three more whiskeys, this time all American with the differences being, Barley, Corn and Rye. They’d also changed the cocktails. They’d started with a Manhattan, followed with a Brooklyn, then rounded out the set with a Brown Derby. At least, Dean remembered they’d ordered those. He was a might bit hazy about the drinking of them. Cas took over from there, recounting how they’d then switched to drinking the whiskey neat, how they’d tried several from other countries not usually known for whiskey, including both Japan and Australia. Cas said after that Dean had taken to drinking Mint Juleps.

“No.” Dean’s face filled with horror.

“I assure you that you did, but I don’t understand why you’re so upset about it,” Cas questioned Dean.

“Mint Juleps aren’t a late night drink. They’re for hot Sunday summer afternoons,” he’d explained.

Cas nodded his understanding before continuing the story. “After we left the club to come home you made the Uber driver detour and stop at Fisherman’s Wharf to look at the lights of Alcatraz.” Cas refilled their water glasses and urged Dean to drink more.

“What happened after that?” Dean was almost too worried to ask.

“We came home and I sent you to bed with a bottle of water and instructions to drink it all.”

“Is that really all that happened?” Dean sat up and turned his full focus on the man sitting beside him.

“You were drunk, Dean,” he muttered. “Anything else that may or may not have happened is inconsequential.” Cas closed the laptop he’d been working on and rose to leave. Dean reached out and grabbed him by the hand, preventing him from moving. Only, Dean’s grip was feather light and Cas could easily have walked away.

“What happened, Cas?”

“We sat here and drank water,” he answered, sitting back down on the sofa with Dean. “You talked about Lisa...”

They sat in silence for a long time, neither sure what to say next. In the end it was the sound of Rachel coming down the stairs, then continuing down to the basement that started them talking again.

“What did I say?”

“You told me that you moved to Sioux Falls when you were 19 and met Lisa at a bar. You’d used a fake ID to get in and she was there celebrating her 21st. Not her actual birthday, but you didn’t know that at the time.” Dean nodded, so far the details Cas was recounting were true. “You stepped in when some creep wouldn’t leave her and her friends alone and they asked you to stay and drink with them. You went home with Lisa and her girlfriend and didn’t see her again for over dozen years.”

“I told you about the threesome?” Dean felt his face flush. “We don’t normally tell people about that.”

Cas nodded like he knew that too. “When you turned 31 you decided that you’d had enough, you wanted to meet someone, settle down and start a family.”

“But I didn’t know how, I’d spent all my life avoiding relationships,” Dean took over when Cas paused, not even thinking that Cas already knew because he’d told him last night. Dean didn’t really remember last night, so it felt like he was telling Cas for the first time. “I thought all I had to do was just not leave the morning after. Turns out most of the time when you pick up women at bars, they want you to leave the morning after.”

Cas sat quietly. He’d learned so much about Dean the night before, as much from what he’d said as from what he didn’t say. He wondered what details Dean would give now that he was sober, if he would give more? Less? Change what he’d said last night now his filters were back in place?

“So that went on for a bit, long enough I started to think it was me,” Dean rubbed his hand over his face. “The common factor in all your failed relationships is you.” It sounded like Dean was quoting something someone had said to him. “Then I ran into Lisa again. I didn’t recognize her right away, but she’d come back to my place and spotted my car.” Dean laughed, but it wasn’t a pleasant sound. “I told you I have a ’67 Chevy Impala,” statement not question. “Lisa spotted my Baby and we clicked, talked about that night, that’s when I found out it hadn’t been her actual birthday. She’d just been out with some friends her parents didn’t like so they hadn’t been allowed at her ‘proper celebration’. We, uhmm... we didn’t sleep together that night.”

Dean reached forward to pour himself another cup of coffee. “You said you kept running into each other after that?” Cas asked, hoping Dean would want to resume his story.

“Yeah, Sioux Falls ain’t that big you know, but we went from not seeing each other for a dozen years to running into each other every time we were out. Or every time I was out, I guess. We ended up sleeping together, always at my place, which I didn’t think about, until I asked her to go steady with me.” Dean swallowed half of his lukewarm coffee. “How much of a teenager does that make me sound?”

“It makes you sound sweet,” Cas answered and got a pillow to the chest for his honesty.

“Cut that out, I’m a man,” Dean grinned.

“You’re a very manly man,” Cas nodded and got hit with the same pillow again.

“That’s when Lisa told me about Ben. He’s not mine, but for a while I thought he might be. I, uhmm, I took some of his hair from his brush and sent it off to be tested.” He leaned forward and looked down at his bare feet. “Lisa told me he wasn’t, but he’s into the same stuff I was at his age, we like the same music, he even kinda looks like me. I _wanted_ Ben to be mine.”

Cas shuffled over slightly and rubbed his hand up and down Dean’s back. “So you found out about Ben, that he wasn’t yours…”

“What? Oh sorry, I jumped ahead of myself,” Dean took a deep breath and sat back, almost trapping Cas’ hand behind him, but Cas snatched it back. They were maybe sitting too close together on the couch now, but it didn’t feel awkward so Dean didn’t say anything about it. “So Lisa told me about Ben, which didn’t go well, not to start with. But we talked and talked and Lisa set down some ground rules. Do you mind if I make more coffee?”

The question came out of left field and Cas didn’t know what to say for a second. “No, of course not.” Cas followed Dean into the kitchen, grabbing the beans and grinder while Dean emptied the French press. Dean leaned against the counter opposite Cas while they waited for the water to boil.

“I got introduced to Ben slowly. We did family dates and stuff first, then he and I hung out by ourselves.” Dean pulled the kettle off the stove at the first hint of it whistling. “I moved in with them about a year ago, that’s when I couldn’t handle not knowing anymore. Like I said, Lisa told me he wasn’t mine, but I needed to know.” He poured the water into the press, but made no move to leave the kitchen.

“The test came back negative,” Cas walked to the couch and brought their cups back to the kitchen.

“So negative, not even a little bit of a chance. Nope, nada, zilch. I am not the baby daddy.” Dean snorted, but like his laugh earlier it was a bitter sound. “You’d think that’d make me happy right?”

“No, why would I think that? You obviously care for the boy, it sounds like you wanted to be his Dad. I would think it makes sense that you’d be upset when you received confirmation he wasn’t yours.” Cas busied his hands with the press and pouring coffee for them both.

“Yeah,” Dean smiled sweetly for a moment. “So, a month into living with Lisa and Ben, I left for work on the Friday morning and didn’t come back until the Sunday night. I had the results sent to my work, you see and when I opened them at the end of the day I just got in my Baby and drove.”

They stood in the kitchen, drinking coffee, Dean lost in his thoughts and Cas just allowing him to be.

“Lisa was _not_ happy when I pulled up that night and I couldn’t tell her why I’d gone. That was our first non-fight,” he sipped from his cup.

“Non-fight?”

“One of Lisa’s rules. No fighting in the house when Ben is home. It doesn’t work because Lisa still wants to scream, but she won’t while Ben is there, so there are a lot of pointed looks.” Dean looked up and smirked. “That woman can slam a door closed without it making a noise.” Cas remained quiet. Dean could tell he wanted to say something, but either didn’t know what, or didn’t want to say anything bad about Lisa while she wasn’t there to defend herself. After spending the past two days with Cas, Dean suspected it was the second option and he appreciated it. “Anyway, we got past it and moved forward.”

“Dean, why are you here?” Cas asked, when it became apparent Dean wasn’t going to say any more. “With me, I mean.”

“Cas, you offered us a million dollars,” Dean put his coffee cup on the bench behind him.

“If it was just the money, you’d have joined me in my room that same night. No, you and Lisa talked about it for a long time. Both of you had red eyes from lack of sleep when you came up to see me.”

“Okay,” Dean said softly, wondering what he’d said the night before. “But before I tell you, I want to know why you asked.”

Cas dropped his eyes. “Gabriel. We were at the pool earlier that day and Gabriel made a bet with me.”

“I’m a bet?”

“No!” Cas’ eyes flew up and pinned Dean in place. “We had a silly argument and Gabriel wanted to prove that people could be bought. I didn’t agree with him.”

“So you bought me to prove him wrong?”

“No, I wasn’t able to buy you,” he said. “You rejected my offer when you didn’t come up to my room that night.”

“Cas, I…” Dean shook his head. There were so many things he wanted to say, questions he wanted to ask, but whatever he did right now, it was going to change the course of this conversation and Dean didn’t know if he’d be able to go back and follow the other path before him. “I’m sorry Lisa and I screwed up your wager with Gabriel.”

“It wasn’t really a bet, it was more like Gabriel blackmailing me. He said if I didn’t try, he would talk to you himself. I couldn’t let him do that.”

“Because when he did get involved, I ended up here with you.”

“Gabriel can be very persuasive,” Cas agreed.

“Lisa thinks I’m bisexual,” Dean admitted.

“So she sent you off to have sex with a man?” Cas sounded incredulous.

“Yeah, makes no sense right? She thinks that while I remain repressed that… I don’t know.” Dean picked his coffee back up and took a large swallow. “She argued that this,” Dean circled his finger in the air taking everything around them in, “is safe and that once it’s done I’ll be back with her and we’ll be back in Sioux Falls. You’ll be a distant memory and I’ll have gotten _it_ out of my system.”

“It?”

“Like I said, Lisa thinks I’m bisexual,” he sighed.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

Cas took the cup from Dean’s hands and placed it along with his own on the counter. He stepped forward into Dean’s space, not touching but close enough that he could feel his warmth. “Do you think you’re bisexual?”

“A straight man wouldn’t be here, would he?” Dean wasn’t talking about Cas’ house, or even his kitchen. He was talking about standing right here with Cas between his spread legs. So close they needed to switch focus from one eye to the other.

“Oh, I’m sorry Castiel,” Rachel’s voice was a bucket of cold water over them and they parted, walking to opposite ends of the kitchen. “I’ll go back downstairs.” She turned to go but Cas stopped her.

“It’s fine, Rachel, we need to head into the city anyway. Can you call a car for me?” He smiled at her, then addressed Dean. “You’ll need to put a kit together for tonight. We’ll be getting dressed and leaving for the masquerade from Crowley’s.”


	10. As The World Falls Down.

The car pulled up in front of the hotel. Cas checked the ties on Dean’s mask to make sure they were still firm and holding. A young man in livery opened the door and Cas stepped out into a lightning storm of camera flashes. He reached into the limo for Dean’s hand. “No one knows you. They’re not going to figure out who you are as long as you keep the mask on.”

“Castiel!” Dean could hear the paparazzi calling out. “Castiel Novak, over here!” A dozen or so voices vied for his attention. “Who is your date tonight, Castiel?”

Cas stopped in front of the photographers and smiled at them while they took pictures. “Smile for the cameras, Michael. We want a nice photo for the tabloids,” he stepped closer and leaned into Dean’s body, pulling him closer and moved his mouth to Dean’s ear. “Now laugh like I just said something funny,” he whispered. Cas tilted his head to the side laughing and Dean laughed along with him. It all felt so fake.

Cas pressed firmly against Dean’s lower back to indicate they could move off and enter the hotel. “Sorry about that. They don’t always show, but when they do it’s better to just let them get a photo.” He walked them through the lobby and followed the signage to the ballroom where the event was being held. They were met outside by another young man in livery who checked Cas’ engraved invitation before they were allowed to enter.

The room was decorated in matte black and white, with small touches of crystal and silver from the table settings reflecting the lights around the room. The round tables were arranged in a U shape around a dancefloor, with two offset rows along each side and four deep at the back of the room. At the opposite end of the room was a small platform where a podium stood to one side with a small table holding a couple of glasses and a carafe filled with what Dean suspected was water.

The tables only had eight place settings around one half of each of the tables. It wouldn’t matter which setting a guest was sitting at, their forward view would encompass both the stage and the floor. Only those sitting on the outer tables would have their views interrupted. Cas spoke quietly with another livered person, this time a stunning redheaded woman, who escorted them to a table and showed them to their seats.

Cas scanned the nametags at all of the settings. The chair furthest to the left was listed as Naomi Adler, then Zachariah Adler. Dean’s place setting named him as Michael Colt. Then there was his name, Castiel Novak, then Missouri Moseley and Pamela Barnes. Past them were Anna Milton and Bartholomew Williams. Cas called the hostess back as she turned to leave.

“Has anyone else from our table arrived yet?” he asked.

“I don’t believe so,” she answered.

“Good, I’m going to change the place settings. Can you please let the kitchen staff know?” Cas was already plucking up name tags and moving them. He switched the two Adler’s with each other and then placed himself next to Naomi. He moved Missouri to his former seat and placed the Michael card on her other side. Cas left Pamela in her original seat but switched Anna and Bartholomew around. “Do you need something to write on?” he asked the hostess, but she shook her head slightly as she muttered the new order of names to herself three times. She smiled and let Cas know the new arrangements would be taken care of.

“Why the changes?” Dean asked softly as they headed to the side of the room where people were already mingling, eating canapes and drinking glasses of champagne.

“I don’t want you to sitting next to either of the Adlers. It’s bad enough that I’ll be sitting next to Naomi, but I’ll not allow Zachariah to interrogate you all night.” Cas plucked two glasses from a tray as a server walked past them. He handed one to Dean and took a sip from his own. Seeing the expression on Dean’s face, he grimaced. “Zachariah is CFO of our primary business that oversees the Novak holdings. He’s been asking questions about the money I transferred to Roman in Vegas.”

“Did you embezzle money, Cas?” Dean hissed, looking around to make sure no one was close enough to overhear them.

“No!” Cas gripped Dean’s arm, swinging him around so they were standing close enough that he could speak directly into Dean’s ear. “The money I used was my own personal money. But I needed to access it through the family accounts, which Zachariah monitors and reports on to the Trust’s directors. What I spend my money on is none of his concern. He just thinks he holds more importance than he actually does. It’s all office politics.” Cas took a step back and stared into Dean’s eyes. “It’s nothing you need to worry about and as far as he knows your name is Michael, just as we discussed. No one here will know who you are.”

Dean nodded slowly. “So who else do I need to be aware of at the table?”

“Naomi is the Head of Human Resources and oversees all of the HR departments across our various companies. She’s ruthless in her execution of the bottom dollar, which only became worse after she married Zachariah. I’ve been trying to get rid of them for more than a year now as their methods don’t align to the values I hold.” Cas grinned when Dean rolled his eyes at the office speak. “They are slimy scum who believe in the almighty dollar, with callous disregard for our employees.”

“Pencil pushers and money grubbers?” Dean let his distaste show on his face for a moment before schooling himself to the bored, indifferent look Meg trained him to wear tonight.

“Just so,” Cas agreed. “Anna and Bartholomew also work for the company. Anna is CMO and Bartholomew is COO.” At Dean’s blank look, Cas clarified. “Marketing and Operations. They’re here along with Naomi and Zachariah to sweet talk Ms. Moseley and Ms. Barnes. Tonight is a goodwill gesture between our company and theirs. We’ve been in acquisition talks for several months now.”

“You just sat me between them.” Dean drained half of his glass in one long swallow. Then raised it again and drank the rest.

“I did, but all I need you to do is be yourself. Everyone else is here to schmooze them.” Cas smiled at him warmly then, looking over his shoulder, switched his smile to professional. “They’re walking through the doors now. Let’s go over and introduce you.”

  


.oOo.

  


Most of the night was a blur. Dean spent the breaks between courses chatting to Pamela about the ‘49 Triumph she’d restored herself and rode. At first he’d felt he shouldn’t be talking with her at all, but she’d rebuffed all of Bart’s conversational starters so Dean relaxed into the conversation with her, especially when he’d caught Cas smiling at him.

During the starter, Elizabeth Moore had been introduced and Dean recognized her as the mother of Sam’s wife Jessica. He’d looked over to Cas hoping to catch his eye to indicate he needed to leave, however Cas had been speaking with Naomi at the time. Dean sat in his chair and ran through all of his options. He was sure if he told Cas he had to leave that he would be fine. Worryingly, Dean suspected Cas may even leave with him and Dean didn’t want him to do that.

Beth kindly thanked everyone for attending and spoke briefly about the charity the night’s dinner and masquerade was in honor of. It was for some type of small penguin Dean hadn’t heard of before and the creation of a sanctuary for them, on an outcropping of rock in the middle of international waters, below the Antarctic Circle. It should’ve been a very dry topic, but Beth spoke with such passion for the small creatures that Dean found himself distracted from his own problem while she spoke.

Dean wondered how likely it would be that Beth would recognize him. Obviously, he wouldn’t tempt fate and parade himself in front of her, but from across a crowded room? They’d only met six or seven times, mostly when Dean drove out every other year to spend Thanksgiving with Sam and Jess. Then there were their graduations. Dean drove out for both college and law school and they’d all gone to dinner after each.

Of course, they’d spent more time together during the two weeks he’d come out for the wedding, but Dean hadn’t spent that much time with Beth then either. He’d spent most of his time prior to the wedding with Sam, then during the ceremony he’d been standing with Sam as his Best Man. At the reception, he’d either been at the bridal table or sitting with Bobby.

Out of context, Dean wasn’t sure Beth would recognize him from across a crowded ballroom. Especially not with half his face covered by a mask and being called Michael. Now, if it was Jess, then Dean would’ve needed to worry. Jess had been joining Sam on Spring Break for the past ten years. Even after they’d finished law school, they’d still come back to Sioux Falls for a weeks’ vacation during spring. Until this year, it had been the three of them shoehorned into Dean’s tiny apartment.

By the time the entrée was served, Dean had convinced himself everything was going to be okay. He would avoid speaking with Beth directly and Sam would never know Dean had been there. The second speaker at the podium was a local comedian who was well known by the crowd. Dean relaxed and, unlike Cas’ employees with the exception of Anna, enjoyed the comedian’s routine. In fact, Dean and Pamela both had to sip water to avoid choking after mistiming mouthfuls of food, as he delivered punchlines.

During dessert, a couple both in their early twenties took to the dancefloor and performed an exhibition Rumba for the crowd to watch. Dean was disappointed he had to split his attention between the dancers and the slice of Bourbon Pecan Pie that had been placed before him. The pie won to start with, but Dean consumed it at an unholy rate. Then he’d been captivated by the two dancers, Jack and Joanne. They exited the floor as the dessert plates were cleared.

As the tables were offered coffees and liquors, a string quartet made its way unobtrusively onto the stage and began to play. Couples from various tables stood and made their way on to the dance floor. Zachariah leaned forward to ask Missouri to dance, but she’d declined telling him he should take his own wife onto the floor first. The utter distain with which she said it left him little room to maneuver and he stood, offering his arm to Naomi. As they were leaving, Dean caught a look flashed between Missouri and Pamela, who then asked Bartholomew for a turn around the dance floor.

“I like you Castiel, I even like your devious brother Gabriel, so understand that what I’m about to tell you hurts me,” Missouri cast her voice low and Dean didn’t think he could’ve heard what she was saying if he hadn’t been sitting right beside her. “I can’t do business with you, not while you have the Adlers working for you. They’ll tear apart everything that I have worked so hard to build. I love the company I’ve created and you’re right. I can’t grow it past where it is without your help, or someone like you who can bankroll and push our expansion. But those two would destroy everything I have crafted over the years.”

“I agree with you,” Cas nodded. “That’s why I want you to add a clause to the merger paperwork that Pamela remains the CFO of your holdings and you remain in autonomous control of your HR. When Zachariah complains about the clause, it’s Gabriel’s and my intention to agree Pamela and Zachariah aren’t both required. We’ll offer Zachariah a lesser position in one of the subsidiaries. The same strategy will be used with Naomi. She can take a smaller role and work under you, or a more than generous redundancy package.” He stopped speaking as the servers placed their coffee orders on the table.

“I’m currently CEO of my own company, Castiel,” Missouri stared at him. “Why do you think I would step back from that to run your HR?”

“Because you hate being CEO and your passion has always been people. Looking after your people is the reason you’re rejecting the deal we’ve been dancing around for months. This was why Gabriel and I came after your holdings, for both you and Pamela.” The music ended and the quartet quickly adjusted their strings. Zachariah, Naomi, Pamela and Bartholomew all returned to the table.

“You make a very excellent point, Mr. Novak. I do believe that I agree with both your statement and your intentions.” Dean watched Pamela look sharply at Missouri. “I’ll need to speak with Ms. Barnes privately on this matter, but I’m sure we can find a common ground.”

“Then let’s not discuss business anymore tonight,” Cas smiled. “Rather, let me have this dance.” He stood and offered his arm to Missouri.

Dean was certain they would continue talking on the dancefloor once they were away from the Adlers, so he was upset to see the couple follow Cas back out onto the floor. Bartholomew again asked Pamela to dance, but she demurred in favor of his taking Anna out. Once alone at the table Pamela asked Dean what had happened.

“I’m not sure,” Dean looked directly into her eyes so she could see his sincerity. “I’m not a business man, I don’t know what’s been discussed in the past.” She nodded. “So please trust me when I say, whatever just happened, I didn’t understand it.” It was only a slight lie. He understood the gist of Cas’ plan to oust the Adlers, but wasn’t confident he could give a nuanced explanation.

“Bar and whiskey then.” Pamela stood. “Are you coming?” Dean stood and offered Pamela his arm.

  


.oOo.

  


“Here you are.” Cas found Dean standing alone by the bar nearly an hour later. He’d spent the first little bit chatting with Pamela as they watched Cas and Missouri move around the dancefloor. Then he’d said goodnight to Pamela and Missouri when Missouri came over to collect her. Cas was still at their table speaking with Zachariah, so Dean had ordered another whiskey and stayed where he was. He wasn’t interested in going back and listening to the arguments he could tell Zachariah was making even from here.

“Here I am.” Dean smiled at him from under the green mask he was wearing. Cas took the time to admire it once more. Meg had outdone herself pulling off Dean’s whole outfit in a matter of days. He wondered, not for the first time, when she was going to break free from Crowley and make her own way in the world.

“Dance?” Cas stepped backward and offered his hand for Dean to take.

He laughed. “I don’t dance.”

“I remember once when I was young, and I was coming back from some place, a movie or something.” Cas stepped back into Dean’s personal space, his breath hot against Dean’s cheek as he began speaking in a low voice directly into his ear. “I was on the subway and there was a young man sitting across from me and he was wearing this leather jacket that was too large for him. He was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.” Cas rested his hand on Dean’s arm, pressing his thumb into his inner elbow. “And I was shy then, so when he would look at me I would look away, then afterwards when I would look back he would look away.” Cas turned his face into Dean’s, his lips barely brushing against the bolt of Dean’s jaw. “Then I got to where I was going and got off. The doors closed, and as the train was pulling away he looked right at me and gave me the most incredible smile.” Cas leaned backward to look directly into Dean’s eyes. “It was awful. I wanted to tear the doors open. I went back every night, same time, for two weeks, but he never showed up.” His other hand moved up to Dean’s waist, pulling him into Cas’ body ever so slightly. “That was 15 years ago and I don't think a day goes by that I don't think about him. I don't want that to happen again.” He brushed a single chaste kiss to Dean’s cheek. “Just one dance.” It wasn’t a question, but the longing in his voice pulled at Dean and he found himself nodding.

They walked between tables to the dance floor and their bodies came together effortlessly. They’d already circled around half the room with Dean lost in Cas’ eyes before awareness of where they were and what they were doing returned. Cas’ right hand gripped Dean’s left shoulder, Dean’s left hand was pressed to the small of Cas’ back, their other hands held together and pulled tightly into their combined bodies. Yet it was Cas who was leading them, moving them constantly in a smooth walk, taking half steps backwards and to the side, drawing Dean with him.

“I need you to look over my shoulder,” Cas told him.

“Why? I rather like looking at what’s right in front of me,” Dean smirked.

“Because it’s a miracle we haven’t already bumped into someone.” Cas didn’t break eye contact either.

“Mmm, I guess that makes sense.” Dean pulled Cas closer and rested his cheek to Cas’ cheek. “So if I see someone I should do this?” Dean stopped moving and swung Cas around in a circle, dipping him slightly before kissing him almost as chastely as Cas kissed him earlier, only Dean played dirty and let their lips meet, softly, just for a heartbeat, before pulling him back up and leading them in the opposite direction.

“I thought you said you couldn’t dance.” Cas moved with Dean, allowing him to take the lead and guide them around the floor.

“There’s a difference between can’t and don’t.” There was a sparkle in Dean’s eyes that hadn’t been there earlier in the evening.

“I’m sorry business got in the way of our evening De—” Cas stopped himself. “Michael.” Cas licked his lips. “This was all setup a month ago.”

“I was a last minute purchase,” Dean quipped.

“De— Michael you know that’s not how I think about you.” Cas pulled back so he could search Dean’s face.

“I know, I’m just joking with you.” Dean smiled at Cas for a moment before pulling him back close and continuing to dance. However, on their very next turn he spotted the unmistakable outline of Sam. He spun Cas on the spot until they could both see the man in question. “Cas, who is that? Please tell me you know who he is? Please tell me that ain’t my brother Sam.” Dean buried his head in the nook of Cas’ neck.

It took a moment or two for Cas to accurately work out which gentleman had Dean so worried and by that time the guy had turned and Dean had verified for himself that his brother was dancing 20 feet away from them, wearing a moose mask. His wife Jessica, who was held as closely in Sam’s arms as Dean held Cas, was dressed in a white sheath and wore a mask reminiscent of a deer.

“Cas, we need to get out of here.” Dean started them moving away from his brother, towards the exit doors. He would’ve preferred to stop dancing and just walk out, but he needed to attract as little attention as he could. “Do you need anything from the table?” Dean asked as they approached the edge of the dancefloor.

“I should say goodbye to the others. Why don’t you wait in the lobby? I’ll call the limo around for us.” Cas squeezed Dean’s shoulder in encouragement and left him to exit the room while he said goodnight to his employees.

Dean strode out, reaching up behind his head to pull at the ribbons keeping his mask in place before realizing it was the only thing keeping his anonymity at this point. He followed the same route out of the hotel they’d taken earlier to reach the ballroom, but as he hurried down the stairs two things stopped him. The first was the pack of paparazzi still waiting outside of the hotel. He couldn’t see them where he stopped, but he could see the light show from all of the cameras going off as another couple exited the hotel.

The second was the sound of Sam’s voice calling out his name. Dean sighed as he turned back to see Sam and Jess reach to top of the stairs. He waved a hand at them, telling them to stop there as he climbed the stairs back up to speak with them.

“Hey Sam, nice antlers,” he said while he was still two steps below. “Is there somewhere quiet we can go?”

Jess pointed to the side. “There is a comfort room over here we can use.”

Sam pulled his mask off. “What are you doing here Dean?”

“What? Ain’t I good enough for your fancy shindigs?” Dean took the last two stairs. “It’s great to see you Jess.” He pulled her in for a quick hug.

“Over here.” She led the way to a small alcove which had potted palms blocking part of the entrance. Jess stepped in and removed her own mask. She waved it vaguely back and forth. “When I told Sam he should come as a moose, I wasn’t thinking about how unappealing female moose look.”

“The deer was very cute,” Dean grinned at her. While running into them was the last thing Dean could’ve wanted, given his current situation, he couldn’t help but be happy to see them both.

“Dean, what the hell?” Sam stood amongst the greenery, so Dean grabbed his arm and hissed at him to sit down and stop being so conspicuous. “How are you here? Why didn’t you tell me you were in the city?” Jess and Dean sat on the two wingback chairs and Sam sank down onto the ottoman facing them both.

“I can’t tell you.” Dean went to run his hand through his hair and found feathers. He sighed his frustration and pulled the ribbons loose, removing his own mask.

“What do you mean you can’t tell me?” Sam’s frustration levels were climbing.

“Look Sam, I don’t have to tell you everything that’s happening in my life, okay?” Dean caught sight of Cas walking towards the stairs. “Shit.” He stood up and called out his name. Cas looked over and, seeing Dean, diverted to the alcove.

“I expected to find you downstairs.” Cas entered the alcove and saw the other two occupants. “Jessica Moore, enchanting as always.” He offered his hand.

“Castiel Novak, charming as ever.” Jess smiled warmly, while the two Winchesters looked back and forth between them.

“You know each other?” Dean asked. Out of everything that had happened tonight, that threw him the most.

“We have been known to move in the same circles at times,” Cas stated mildly.

“My mother is very influential on the charity circuit. She headed the committee behind tonight’s gala.” Jess looked between Sam and Dean for a moment. “Castiel, perhaps you could escort me back to the ballroom?”

“Dean?” Cas asked more with only Dean’s name than anyone else could using a paragraph of words.

“Dean.” Sam was still looking at his brother.

“I’m good, Cas. Sam and I need to talk.” He waited until Jess and Cas were out of earshot before he sat on the ottoman next to his brother. “I know you have questions Sammy, but I don’t know if I have any answers for you. Not tonight anyway. Maybe in the future,” he shrugged.

Sam searched his older brother’s face. “Okay. Can I ask them anyway?”

“If you can be okay with me not answering them.” The two brothers sat side-by-side and Dean leaned his shoulder into Sam’s.

“What are you doing here tonight?” Sam pressed back against Dean and they both took comfort in the physical contact with each other.

“I was Cas’ guest.” Dean huffed at Sam’s irritated snort. “You agreed, Sam.”

“Yeah I know.” Sam breathed deeply. “How long have you been in San Fran?”

“We flew in Sunday evening and we’re leaving again this weekend. My time ain’t my own Sammy, I couldn’t— I can’t meet up with you.”

“What do you mean, your time isn’t your own?”

“I can’t answer that, not right now. I promise I’ll call you when I can and explain everything.”

“Dean, what aren’t you telling me? Are you in trouble?” Sam turned abruptly to face Dean.

“I’m not in trouble, I promise. There’s nothing for you to get all lawyerly over. Just trust me, okay?” Dean pleaded.

“Dean, we talk every week. You were on the phone with me two months ago, at a jeweler’s uhmming and ahhing over buying a ring for Lisa.” Sam ran his fingers through his hair. “Now you’re here with Castiel Novak. What happened? I thought you were still in the closet?”

“What?!” Dean stood up. The need to pace, to be in motion, was undeniable.

“Castiel is openly gay, Dean. You arrived on his arm and you’ve been the center of his attention for most of the night. Everyone has been talking about you, trying to work out who his mystery ‘Michael’ is.” Sam continued to sit on the ottoman, calmly watching Dean stalk around the small alcove like a caged tiger. “I assume you’ve been using ‘Michael’ to preserve your identity.”

“If you knew who I was, why did you wait all night to talk to me?” Dean paused to look at Sam.

“I didn’t know it was you until we were dancing. It’s not like I expected to see you here.”

“You keep saying that, like I don’t deserve to be here.” Dean collapsed into the wingback chair Jess sat in earlier.

“‘Here’ as in the West Coast, Dean. I thought you were in Sioux Falls with Lisa.” Sam was working up to an almighty bitchface.

“I’m not gay.” The rapid return to the previous topic must have thrown Sam, as his face lost all frustration and filled with love and warmth.

“I know Dean, you’re Bi. I’ve always known you like both.”

“What? How?”

“Let’s start with your very healthy obsessions with both Harrison Ford and Michelle Pfeiffer. Not to mention your whole love affair with the Brat Pack from Emilio Estevez to Demi Moore.” Sam smiled in memory. “Besides you told me.”

“No I never,” Dean blurted. He was sure he would’ve remembered such a conversation with Sam, or with anyone for that matter.

“The night you turned 21. Dad and Bobby got you drunk, drunker than I’d ever seen you before or since. I’m still surprised you didn’t end up with alcohol poisoning. It took both of them to carry you upstairs and they put you in my room that night, half hanging off the bed with your head propped over a bucket in case you were sick.” Dean shook his head. He’d no recollection at all of that night. Hell, he barely remembered the next day.

“About ten minutes after they left again, you wanted to go to the bathroom and I helped you get there. You hugged the toilet for most of the night, but you wouldn’t let me leave you. You kept telling me you were sorry, I asked you why every time. Eventually, you told me about Aaron.”

“I told you about Aaron?”

“Yeah Dean. Just the once. You never mentioned him again, but we talked about Aaron and how you blamed yourself for us moving. But it wasn’t your fault Dean. Dad got a job offer in Tennessee and he came home and told me to start packing before he went to find you. He needed us to be on the road that night so he could make the trip. He had us on the road for near on 36 hours straight and he only slept for that one section when he had you take the wheel.”

Dean shook his head slowly. He remembered the mad drive across country, but he never knew they were going towards a job. He always thought they were driving away from his weakness.

“Dean?” Cas interrupted from outside the alcove. “Do you need longer?”

“I—” Dean looked up at Cas and then back to his brother. “I need to go, Sammy. I’ll call you in a couple of weeks and explain everything, I promise. But I have to go now.” Dean still didn’t remember the night of his 21st, but what Sam had said must be true because their Dad had never known Aaron’s name. The only way Sam could know Aaron’s name was if Dean had told Sam himself.

Dean stood, pulling Sam up into a massive bear hug. He slapped him on the back twice and muttered he would be in touch. Dean withdrew, but before leaving the alcove he settled the mask back over his face and asked Sam to re-tie it securely. There was still a gamut of photographers he needed to face.

Dean and Cas walked arm in arm down the stairs. “We could stay longer if you like.” It was both a suggestion and a question, but Dean shook his head. There was too much swimming around in it for him to think, he wanted to get away from everything and not think. “The car will be waiting for us. We should stop, let the vultures get their pictures. If they get what they need, they shouldn’t follow us.” The doors opened as they walked towards them, allowing them to step out into the night without hesitation.

Immediately, the crowd of paparazzi called for Castiel, asking him who Michael was. Dean stiffened - they had his name, even if it was a fake name. Cas pulled him closer and didn’t answer any of their questions. Dean looked at the man holding him so close and without thought, with no preamble, he kissed him.

In front of all the cameras, he worked his mouth over Cas’ nibbling on his bottom lip, running his tongue over the plump flesh. All of it on show for the cameras to capture. When he felt Cas respond he pulled back a hair’s breadth, allowing Cas to chase and capture. He became pliant but not submissive under Cas’ onslaught. Breathless, they parted under a deluge of flashlights.

Cas side-eyed the crowd and growled. “That’s enough of a show for them.” His hooked his arm around Dean’s waist, steering him towards the open car door then pushing him in first and following straight after. The door was closed behind them and, with the privacy screen raised, they were in their own isolated world. “Do up your seatbelt Dean. We still have an hour drive before we get home.” Cas clicked his own belt in place and pulled two bottles of water from the bar, handing one to Dean and drinking from the other.


	11. Shook Me All Night Long.

It was a long drive made in silence. Dean tried to initiate conversation with Cas a few times, but he’d been met with a cold look and a shake of his head. Dean quickly stopped trying, hurt that Cas was stonewalling him. He wondered if this was how Sam felt when he tried talking to Dean and he silently apologized and promised he would try to do better, be better, in the future.

The limo pulled up in front of Cas’ house and the driver opened the door for Cas to exit. Just as before, Cas leaned in and offered his hand to Dean. It was the first time they’d touched since climbing into the car. Dean slid across the seat and rose to his feet. Cas let his hand go and spoke to the driver, thanking him for his time and effort. The man, Dean realized he’d never even known his name, tipped his hat and walked back to the driver’s door where he waited until Cas unlocked the house and they shut the door behind them.

Cas played with the alarm for a moment before saying the motion sensors were off, but all the doors had been re-armed. “Would you like a nightcap?” he asked nervously.

“Sure, Cas, that would be nice.” Dean was curious to find out why Cas seemed so unsettled. Not once in the five days – shit, was it only five days since they’d met? Saturday, not even during the day on Saturday, but during the evening, through to now, Wednesday night. It felt longer, like they’d spent months together not just days, and not once in all that time had Dean ever seen Cas less than confident.

But here, tonight, as he followed Cas to the kitchen and the small wet bar at the end of the island, Cas was nervous. “I don’t understand why you did that.” He poured two fingers of amber liquid into heavy glasses, handing one to Dean.

“Did what?” Dean brought the glass to his lips, breathing in the heady aroma of fine Irish whisky. He allowed a small dram past his lips, holding the golden fire on his tongue until his whole mouth warmed, before swallowing and feeling the same warmth spread downward through his throat and chest. He felt it pool in his stomach and even lower. He wondered if it was really the booze or was it also his desire for the man in front of him?

“You kissed me. That wasn’t part of our arrangement. There wasn’t any reason for you to do that.” Cas swallowed half of his drink.

“You told me when we were on the plane that I could, _if it was something I wanted for me_.” Dean held his gaze.

“But I don’t understand why.” Cas searched Dean’s face like it held all the answers.

“Because this is me, giving you, my _explicit_ and _enthusiastic_ consent. This is me, telling you, that I want to take you upstairs to your room. That I want to remove every item of clothing you’re wearing. That I want to kiss every inch of your body. This is _me_ , telling _you_ , that I want you to open me up and fuck me into your mattress.” Dean held still the entire time he detailed what he wanted to happen.

Cas couldn’t do the same. He was a moth drawn to Dean’s fire. “Why Dean?” he entreated, wanting an answer he wasn’t sure the other man could give.

Dean lifted his glass back to his lips, slowly and deliberately drinking the last swallow. “Because that train was in New York City, I was 19 years old and my Dad was working upstate. I’d taken Sam to The Met and we were on our way back. You were the singular most beautiful creature I had ever seen and it wasn’t until you exited the train that I realized that I might never see you again. I vowed to myself that the following weekend I’d bring Sam back to the city, because I knew, _I knew_ from the look in your eyes, that if I came back you’d find me.” Dean sat his glass down on the counter and pulled the other glass from Cas’ hand, sitting it beside his empty one.

“But you didn’t come back. I was there, every day, for two weeks, but you never came back.” The hurt look in Cas’ eyes tore at Dean.

“Two days before I could get back, my Dad packed us up and moved us again to Sioux Falls. I convinced myself I had dreamt you, that you weren’t real.” Dean cupped Cas’ face gently in his hands. He pressed soft kisses to his forehead, nose, chin and back to Cas’ mouth. Dean brushed his closed lips against Cas’ until he opened his mouth. Rather than deepening the kiss, like he so desperately wanted to, Dean asked, “Cas, can we go upstairs now?”

“Yes Dean,” Cas answered, or at least that’s what Dean hoped Cas was trying to say. It was hard to tell with their lips locked together, Dean’s tongue sliding into Cas’ mouth, rubbing against his tongue as he said something. Maybe it was just a moan of pleasure. Dean understood, as he was doing the same.

Cas grabbed Dean by the hips and navigated them to the base of the stairs as proficiently as he’d moved them around the dance floor earlier that night. The entire trip, Dean’s lips didn’t leave Cas. They were on his lips, his cheeks, they followed the line of Cas’ jaw. Dean mouthed at the flesh under Cas’ ear and sucked on his lobe. The entire trip, Cas had to concentrate to maneuver them safely while Dean did his best to distract Cas from the task. The journey had been one slow step at a time, as he forgot what he was doing and where they were going. Cas was more interested in recapturing Dean’s mouth with his own, tasting Dean, breathing him in, running his hands up under Dean’s jacket.

“Dean,” Cas whined into Dean’s mouth.

“Cas,” Dean sighed back.

“We need to...” the sentence was interrupted by the games their tongues played. “Need to...” Cas’ bottom lip was trapped between Dean’s teeth, being tugged at rhythmically. “Dean, stairs,” he gasped, pulling away for the first time since Dean cupped his face.

“Stairs,” he agreed and ran up them, waiting at the top to draw Cas back into his arms, to kiss him again and again and again. It was up to Cas to direct them away from the staircase and to the double doors leading to his bedroom.

He fumbled with the knobs, too interested in kissing Dean, until the door swung open as they pushed through them. “Cas, Cas Cas Cas.” Dean rested his forehead against Cas’. “I need to slow this down.” He broke their bodies apart, pushing the other man into the center of his own bedroom. Dean took the time to close the doors and grinned in anticipation as he walked back to Cas. “I want to undress you slowly. Take my time, do this right.”

Cas nodded jerkily and allowed him to do just that. First, Dean ran his hands up the lapels of Cas’ jacket and, slipping his hands underneath, he ghosted over Cas’ collarbones as he drew the jacket off his shoulders and down his arms. “Closet?” Dean asked, neatly holding the jacket in his hands. Cas pointed to the walk-in and Dean disappeared inside for a moment, returning sans his own.

Dean made quick work then of both their ties, vests with their hidden buttons and suspenders, all tossed at Cas’ insistence onto one of the mint green wing chairs. He slowed again as he removed the cufflinks and shirt studs, collecting all of them and placing them carefully on the burnished tray sitting on the dresser.

He knelt before Cas, running his hand down the outside of one leg to mid-calf where he applied pressure, silently asking Cas to lift his foot so he could remove first one shoe and thin sock, then repeating his action to remove the other. Dean picked them up and walked them into the closet, placing the shoes on an empty shelf, the socks in the hamper he’d spotted before. He stripped his own off and placed his shoes on the floor. He looked at himself in the mirror; his cheeks were flushed and his breath quick.

He walked back to Cas, the two of them standing in only shirts and pants. Until now, all of Dean’s actions had been utilitarian as he’d removed each item of clothing. Yet every act had felt more intimate than any of the times he’d torn clothing off a one night stand, or even Lisa for that matter. He tugged at the French cuffs of Cas’ shirt while the man rolled his shoulders and the shirt drifted down as if on a cloud. It spilled over the floor. Dean went to pick it up but a growl from Cas stopped him. “Leave it.”

Cas roughly shed Dean of his own shirt and started on the fastenings of his pants, no longer capable of remaining passive under Dean’s attention. He needed to touch, to feel, to taste. Cas ran a line of kisses along Dean’s collarbone to his shoulder. He fastened his mouth to a nipple as his hands pushed the trousers over Dean’s hips and down his legs. He slapped Dean’s hands out of the way so he could divest himself of his own trousers with a shimmy of his hips. Cas only broke away to pull his pants off of his ankles. He tossed them at the same chair where their other clothing rested and helped Dean to do the same.

They stood in just underwear, Cas breathless, stunned to find Dean wore a pair of white panties. Not women’s underwear, because these were cut and designed to fit a man’s body. But there was no denying that they were panties with the satin straining to contain Dean’s arousal. “Oh Dean.” Cas fell to his knees in front of the godlike man before him. Cas worshipped him through the material, his tongue left a wet trail that told its own story separate from the damp patch Dean’s pre-ejaculate created.

“Cas.” He pulled the man to his feet and kissed him hard and fast. “I want you.”

“I want you too.” Cas pushed Dean onto the bed and crawled up Dean’s body. His knees remained on the bench seat at the end of the bed as he sucked small marks that didn’t last more than an hour over the flesh of Dean’s stomach.

“No Cas, you don’t understand. I want you to teach me,” Dean was embarrassed to be asking but he needed to be honest with Cas.

Cas sat back on his heels. “Dean.” He swallowed. “Have you... Is this the first time you’ve...”

“Been with a man.” Dean sat up and drew his knees to his chest. “I’ve been with women before, some who have even wanted to... you know... so I’ve topped. But I’ve never...” He dropped his gaze to Cas’ groin, still encased in black cotton boxer briefs.

“Oh Dean.” Cas’ voice was soft, filled with awe, his entire demeanor changed. He backed off the seat and held his hand out to Dean.

Dean was unsure of himself now that he’d made his revelation. He stretched his hand out, Cas took hold of it and pulled him forward off the bed. “Cas? Are we not...?”

“Yes, Dean, we are, but first I’m taking you for a shower. Come on.” He walked Dean to the double doors opposite the bed and opened them to a master bathroom that was bigger than the kitchen in Lisa’s house back in Sioux Falls. Dean grimaced. Lisa was the last person he wanted to think about.

Instead, he concentrated on the tiles under his feet. They were 12x12 greyish green granite look and square set, except for an area down the center of the long room. A border of six rows of tiny inch long rectangles, most likely marble created a border that was filled with the same 12x12’s as the rest of the room, only these’d been offset. The arrangement gave the feel of a rug running the length of the bathroom floor.

Dean looked up when he heard the shower being turned on. Cas pulled a cloth mat out and placed it on the floor in front of the large shower enclosure. He took great care of Dean’s panties as he pulled them down his legs. Even with Dean’s mixed feelings about what was going to happen, his cock sprung free, firm and pointed at Cas.

Cas had squatted to remove Dean’s panties and he took advantage of the situation. He licked his lips and, having left them wet, engulfed Dean in his mouth and worked his way down the shaft. Cas tossed the panties over his shoulder. He didn’t see, or care, where they landed. He bobbed a handful of times as he struggled to remove his own underwear. He stopped, as it was impossible to do so while his legs imitated a frog’s.

When Cas stood to pull his boxers off, Dean knelt in front of him. Dean ran his hands up and down Cas’ flanks while he studied the penis before him. “So you’ve never...” Cas took himself in hand. Dean shook his head. “Okay, I’m not going to tell you not to, but you don’t have to.”

“Cas.” Dean’s voice rumbled from deep within his chest. He didn’t remember if he was this nervous the first time he went down on a girl. Probably not, because he’d all the cockiness of youth on his side then. Sure, he’d known that he didn’t know what he was doing, but how hard could it be? You just got your mouth in there and moved your tongue around and if she started moaning then you were good as gold. Yeah, it’d taken a few years and a very confident and vocal partner before he learned any real skills to back up his original confidence. But this was different.

This was a cock, he had one of those himself. In theory, he should already know what to do. He knew what felt good and what didn’t. He could do this. He swirled his tongue over Cas’ glans, flattened it out and rubbed up and down Cas’ frenulum. “Dean! Shower.” He looked up at Cas to see his eyes blown wide with desire and his face filled with determination. Cas pulled away from Dean and stepped into the shower, then beckoned Dean to follow.

Dean thought about crawling into the shower after Cas. Thought about how that would look for Cas, watching him naked, aroused following him on his hands and knees. Dean imagined the opposite, Cas stalking him like a cat, back curved, his ass proudly on display, the thought had his engine revving. But tiles were not the surface for such games so he tried for a sultry stretch as he stood. Dean angled his body in a way he’d known would highlight his chest and arms as he closed the glass door behind them.

Cas had a good lather worked up in his hands and he asked Dean to step under the water. “Adjust the heat if you want.” He spread his soapy hands over Dean’s shoulders, digging his fingers into Dean’s flesh as he worked his thumbs down his spine. Cas pulled Dean’s body back until it was flush with his own. He picked up the bar of soap and worked it over Dean’s chest, hugging him close to reach, allowing the shower to wash the soap away as fast as he rubbed it over Dean’s body.

Cas took his time as he washed Dean. He worked his muscles, releasing all the tension Dean had held in the bedroom. Dean protested the water would go cold, but Cas informed him what the continuous hot water system he’d installed while the house was being renovated meant. “The only cold showers here are those taken by choice.” Once he was sure he had Dean as relaxed as he could, Cas turned the water off and exited the shower-room, pulling a large fluffy towel off the rail and wrapping it around Dean before grabbing a second towel for himself.

He dried quickly then helped Dean, unable to keep his hands off the gorgeous man facing him. “Dean, you can say no, any time you want to. It’s okay. I don’t want to do anything that you’re not on board with.”

“I told you Cas. I want this, with you, tonight.”

He groaned and kissed Dean, dropping his towel and urging Dean to do the same, gesturing for Dean to follow him back to the bed. He sat Dean on the mattress near the head of the bed so the nightstand and its drawer of supplies were in easy reach. He sank down between Dean’s knees, pushing his legs further apart, then left his hands on Dean’s knees and kissed his way from his left thumb up the inside of Dean’s thigh to the junction of his leg and groin.

Cas smoothed his hands up over Dean’s thighs to his hips and waist then back down again, repeating the motion as he lowered his mouth over Dean, working his way down Dean’s length until he had his nose pressed into the other man’s pubic hair. He swallowed around the cock, breaching his throat, before pressing his tongue up against the thick vein running the length of Dean’s cock all the way up to the glands which Cas suckled softly.

Cas pulled the bottle of lube out of the drawer and poured a generous amount into his hand. He dropped the bottle back on the bedside table and squidged the cool liquid in his hand, coating his fingers and palm. Deep throating Dean again, Cas slid his hand over Dean’s balls, tugging at them gently and coating them in the lube.

Cas drew back so he could breathe, then set a brutal pace over Dean’s head and first couple of inches, while his fingers drifted lower, working the now warm lube around Dean’s sensitive muscle. He felt it twitch and tighten under the light touches he allowed his fingers to make. Slowing the pace of his mouth, Cas took more of Dean in with each downward sweep, but not past the back of his mouth. Cas waited for Dean to relax into the sensations that Cas’ fingers were creating, applying unsteady pressure around the furl. He waited for Dean to calm and then whimper, for him to push back and demand more.

Cas added more lube, the cold yet another feeling for Dean to be thrilled by and he was from the sounds he was making. “Cas Cas Cas Cas.” Dean chanted the name, begging, he didn’t know what for, because Dean had never felt this aching want before, this need for something more. “Cas please.” And he did. Everything coalesced to a single point. Cas’ fingertip circled then pressed, circled then pressed. Not hard enough, not nearly hard enough, not penetrating Dean, just gently asking Dean to open for Cas. Circle and press, circle and press, firm pressure around the muscle, the softest persuasion at the center.

“Cas!” Dean cried, unable to think, just feel. He bore down the next time Cas’ finger finished its loop, impaling himself with a groan.

Cas wasn’t ready for that. He’d felt Dean tense and had pulled off from his cock to ask him to relax, but instead was rewarded with the sight of Dean unexpectedly taking his finger to the first knuckle. "Oh Dean,” he breathed in wonder. His eyes flicked back and forth between his finger, now held tightly in place by Dean, and Dean’s face.

Dean had wanted so much, needed so much, but had he taken too much? He froze at the intrusion, as had Cas apparently because he stopped doing everything, all the yummy things he had been doing to Dean. Driving Dean insane with his mouth, while his fingers had been massaging Dean’s nether region. Now no-one was moving. Dean half-reclined back, resting on his elbows, one leg thrown wide the other high over Cas’ shoulder. Every part of him was open and on display to the man between his legs.

Their breathing was loud in the room. Eyes met and locked together. “Cas.” It was a plea, an asking for forgiveness, a need for reassurance.

“Dean,” he answered, a benediction and an announcement of awe. He reached up and kissed him, twisting his finger as their lips met.

“Cas!” Dean panted into his mouth, taking up his chant again between kisses as the man moved slowly, tugging at Dean’s rim. Twisting and working his finger deeper until he could easily slide the whole length in and out of Dean. He fumbled for the bottle, adding more lube to make sure the motion stayed a clean glide.

Cas knew he needed to make tonight special for Dean - an experience that he’d want to repeat, hopefully with Cas himself. So while Cas liked to be stretched open with a little burn, he took all the time Dean needed. He waited for his partner to demand more before adding a second and then a third finger. All the while twisting, spreading, scissoring. Rubbing at Dean’s inner walls, careful to swipe at Dean’s prostate at random intervals.

“Please Cas please,” Dean begged. “I want you so much.”

Cas reached for a condom and, removing his fingers, tore the packet open. “I know,” he cooed, when Dean whimpered at the loss. He pinched the tip and lined it up with his head, rolling the latex down over himself. He added more lube, then grabbed a handful of tissues and wiped the excess off of his hand. Standing up, Dean’s leg slipped off his shoulder and slid down to his hip, where Cas caught and held it, rolling Dean’s hips up. Cas grabbed himself and lined up with Dean’s fluttering hole.

He leaned forward, capturing Dean’s mouth, all teeth and tongue, with a sharp thrust forward, plunged himself into Dean’s depths. Cas relaxed once the whole head of his cock was lodged in Dean. He turned the kiss soft, nipping gently at Dean’s lips with his own, while he stroked the gorgeous man’s flanks with his palms, warming them while he waited for Dean to adjust.

Dean would’ve yelled if he’d had the breath to do so when Cas speared him, but Cas had already stolen all of Dean’s air. Dean felt every muscle in his body tense, even though he felt engorged he also felt empty. His mind flicking between wanting to tell Cas to get out, wanting him to move deeper. He panted, arched his back, shoved his hips higher in the air and, holding Cas’ eyes, told him to move.

“Cas, Cas I need you, please Cas, please, help me, take me, Cas please.” The words spilling from Dean’s mouth were an unending stream of want and need, begging Cas to move. “Please Cas, please, want you, please Cas.” The dark-haired man groaned. He needed to hold on to his control, he needed to make sure this was a good experience for Dean. “Fuck me Cas.” And his control broke, he couldn’t wait any more. He fell effortlessly into Dean, not pausing again until their bodies were flush with each other.

He pulled Dean up, encouraged him to wrap his legs around Cas’ hips, then got Dean’s arms over his shoulders and his hands under Dean’s ass. Pulling their bodies close, Cas carried his weight and climbed up onto the bed on his knees. With Dean sitting across his spread thighs, he glided his hands up to support Dean’s back as he lay them down, then spread his arms wide to box Dean’s body. Undulating his hips, he looked for the right angle to drive Dean crazy, then set about taking him apart slowly.

“Harder Cas, please harder, need more, need you, faster, harder, more Cas, I need you more.”

Rolling his hips, moving in long thrusts, kissing Dean, Cas knew he could maintain that pace for a long time, giving the man under him all the time in the world to acclimatize to him and to what they were doing. Time Dean didn’t want to take. He’d had enough of waiting for Cas to give him what he wanted, so he did that thing women did to him that he loved so much. He concentrated on his body and bore down on the cock in his ass. Tightening and relaxing his muscles in waves trying to milk Cas for all he was worth.

It must have worked because now it was Cas calling out Dean’s name, Cas pleading with him, Cas crying out and Dean encouraging him to take what he wanted, to give Dean everything he had. The sounds of flesh slapping against flesh filled the room. Moans littered the air, gasps of pleasure, groans of need. Dean pleaded with Cas, Cas begged Dean. Wordless noises as they climbed the same pinnacle. Dean reached between their bodies and took himself in hand. Cas’ hand followed, gripping Dean’s hand and holding it still, using the motion of his own body slamming into Dean’s to move Dean inside their combined fists.

Cas reared back and froze as he felt Dean clamp down in pleasure. He wanted to watch as Dean threw his head back and painted his body in white stripes. Cas let go of Dean’s hand, grabbed him by his right hip and left shoulder and fucked him through his orgasm, right into his own. “Dean.” His name was a blessing on Cas’ lips.

Dean didn’t know how long they lay there before Cas slipped from his body. He mourned the loss immediately but understood the necessity of removing the filled condom and disposing of it. Cas brought a wet face cloth back and wiped the evidence of Dean’s debauchery from their bodies. Cas drew the covers back then pushed and pulled at Dean until he climbed, boneless, under them. Throwing the now-cool, used cloth back into the bathroom, Cas slipped into bed behind Dean and curled around his body.


	12. The Morning After The Night Before.

Dean woke slowly to the feel of fingers trailing up and down his back. Last night. Last night had happened and now Dean was waking up in Cas’ bed. Those were Cas’ fingers tracing patterns over his back, it was Cas’ chest he was using as a pillow, his legs that Dean’s were intertwined with, Cas’ hip that his morning wood was snuggled up too, that Dean wanted to rut up against.

“You’re awake.”

“ ‘m not.” Dean turned his face further into Cas’ body. He didn’t want to think about what had happened last night. What he’d asked to happen, repeatedly, every time Cas asked him if he was sure, until Dean had taken his breath away.

“Well I am and I need to get up.” Cas kissed the top of Dean’s head where it was tucked under his chin. “I have a meeting I have to attend.”

Dean shifted his weight, climbing on top of Cas. “No.” He trailed kisses from Cas’ collarbone down his chest. Okay, so he didn’t want to think about last night, but he did want a re-enactment of it this morning.

Cas flipped him over easily and kissed him deeply. “I’d like nothing more than to spend a lazy morning in bed with you Dean and we can do that tomorrow if you want.” His voice trailed off slightly, as if he was unsure if he was making a statement. “But I need to get up and get ready.” Cas pulled away and walked nude into his bathroom.

Dean could hear water running in the shower. He lay back on the bed for a moment before saying ‘screw it’ to himself. He only had limited time with Cas. If Lisa wanted him to get _this_ out of his system, then he wasn’t going to be able to do that lying in bed by himself. He followed Cas into the bathroom, then the shower stall. It was big enough for two and while he still thought shower sex was complicated, Dean was sure they could figure it out.

Cas was standing under the shower-rose, water and shampoo bubbles cascading down his back when Dean slipped through the glass door. He ran his hands up Cas’ back digging his thumbs into the base of Cas’ neck, fanning his fingers over wet shoulders. “Hello Dean.” Cas relaxed his body back against Dean’s.

“Mornin’ Cas. What time did you say you had to leave?” Dean picked up the bar of soap and started running it over Cas’ chest.

“I have to be in the office no later than 9am.” He turned in Dean’s arms to face him. “I really need to have a quick shower, grab breakfast and get out the door. I spent all my time watching you sleep already.” Dean may have paid more attention to Cas’ timeline if he hadn’t soaped his way down Cas’ body while he’d been talking. He knelt in front of Cas, drawing lazy soap circles over his jutting hipbones and down his powerful thighs.

“Rinse,” Dean ordered, putting the soap aside. He continued rubbing his hands up and down the length of Cas’ body, or as much of it as he could reach from his current position. Once Dean was sure no soap remained, he leaned in and took Cas’ half-hard length into his mouth. No warning kiss, no kitten licks this morning. Dean knew if he was going to have a chance at taking all of Cas in his mouth, he needed to do so before Cas became fully erect. He tasted of clean skin and fresh water. This morning, the musky smell he’d found so arousing the night before had been washed away, instead Cas smelt of cinnamon and orange like the bar of soap Dean had been using on him.

Dean pulled Cas forward out of the spray of water so he could look up while he worked his mouth up and down Cas’ shaft. Dean imagined what it would be like to look down at Cas doing the same to him, the thought of water-spiked eyelashes surrounding those beautiful blue eyes, lust blown, looking up at him while those beautiful chapped lips surrounded him…

Dean groaned and closed his eyes, concentrating on what he was doing so he didn’t choke himself on Cas’ growing cock. He moved his left hand from Cas’ hip to grip his base and work in conjunction, when he could no longer take all of Cas in his mouth. He swirled his tongue around the glands and picked up the taste of pre-come. It wasn’t anything like he expected it to taste. He’d been told more than once it was salty and bitter, but it wasn’t. It was bland. No, not bland, but not something he could describe either. A non-taste, more like saliva than anything else, it was only then, comparing it to that, when he agreed. Yes, it kind of was bitter and salty. He chased the taste, trying to find more for scientific research. He nearly laughed at himself, but at that moment Cas’ fingers threaded through his hair and cupped Dean’s head gently.

He reopened his eyes and looked up into Cas’. Dean pressed his head back firmly into Cas’ hands and nodded, silently asking Cas to take over the rhythm, but keeping his hand loosely encircling Cas’ cock acting as a bumper. While he may want Cas to fuck his face, he wasn’t interested in gagging. “You’re going to be the death of me,” Cas moaned as he took control and found his own pace. He didn’t last long after Dean used his right hand to massage Cas’ balls. Cas’ thrusts started to stutter and he pulled away from Dean’s mouth, moving his left hand over Dean’s and fucking into their combined grip.

Dean could tell Cas was moving his aim away from him. “I want to know what you taste like,” Dean told him. Cas cried out as he lost control. His first spurt shot past Dean’s face, but the next one hit him just below the eye, which Dean closed quickly. He felt a warm splash land over his lips and more landed on his chest. He flicked his tongue out to lick his lips. That was the flavor he’d expected, musky and bitter, salty and strangely a little bit sweet as well. He went to lick more off of his lips, but Cas had dropped to his own knees kissing him, kissing his own come off Dean’s lips and cheek. Cas plunged his tongue into Dean’s mouth, coating them both in the flavor of Cas.

“You’re going to make me late,” Cas groaned into his mouth. He pulled Dean out of the shower and grabbed a bath sheet on their way back to the bed. “Spread that over the bed and lay on top of it,” he ordered, as he walked to the side table to pick up a condom and the bottle of lube. Still dripping water, he climbed on to the bed and sat over Dean’s thighs. He opened the bottle and liberally coated his hand. He leant forward and briskly set about opening himself up.

“Hey, don’t I get to play?” Dean asked.

“No, you’re making me late.” Somehow satisfied with the minimal prep he achieved in the limited time he’d taken, Cas opened the condom and rolled it onto Dean’s cock. He poured more lube into his palm and coated Dean liberally before wiping his hand on the towel.

“What’s with the towel, Cas?” Dean managed to ask before Cas shuffled forward and impaled himself on Dean’s throbbing length.

“We’re soaking wet and I’m pretending I care what Rachel thinks when she sees the state of our bed later this morning.” Cas had bottomed out and was taking a moment to acclimatize to Dean’s size. He started slowly, circling his hips first one way and then the other, stretching out his muscles further on Dean. Happy the initial burn he’d experienced because he’d rushed was easing, Cas switched to working himself up and down Dean’s generous length.

Dean got his feet under him and used the leverage to thrust up into Cas’ hot tight body. He’d never felt anything like this before, he knew he wouldn’t last long. Not with the encouragement spilling from Cas’ mouth.

“So big, Dean, filling me so well.” Cas threw his head back and moaned his enjoyment loudly.

“Cas.” Dean didn’t know what he wanted to say, but he needed to tell him something.

“I know.” Cas looked down at the man spread out beneath him, knew a week was never going to be enough time. “Come for me, Dean.” His need was so great that Cas needed to get away from Dean. He needed to wrap himself up in Dean’s arms and never leave. He needed space, he needed time, Cas wanted, needed, craved Dean, now. “Come for me,” he begged and Dean did.

He clung to Cas’ thighs as his hips shuddered with his release. He whimpered and thrust up into Cas, working himself through his orgasm.

“Dean.” Cas covered Dean’s hands with his own, tapping at them gently. “Dean, let me go. I still have to go to work.” He needed time alone to rebuild the walls Dean had passed through as if they didn’t exist, because for Dean those walls didn’t exist and Cas wasn’t sure he could survive the hole Dean was going to leave in his life.

“What?” Dean was still drifting in a blissed-out haze and Cas wasn’t making any sense.

“I have to finish my shower, Dean. I can’t go into the office stinking of sex.” Cas was torn. He wanted to stay, to revel in the afterglow with Dean. He dropped his upper body over Dean’s and indulged himself in a sweet kiss. They both whined when the movement dislodged Dean from Cas’ body.

Cas kissed him one more time then slid down Dean’s body to the end of the bed. He pulled the used condom from Dean, which he knotted and palmed to take with him to the bathroom. Cas stopped to kiss the inside of Dean’s left thigh, his right knee and both ankles before standing. Telling Dean to rest for a while, Cas re-entered the bathroom and dropped the filled latex sheath in the bin. He stepped back into the still running shower where he quickly soaped and rinsed.

He made short work of toweling dry and dressed in a black suit. He threw last night’s clothes into the hamper, knowing Rachel would deal with them later and replaced them with his robe for Dean to wear. “Dean,” he whispered in the dozing man’s ear.

“Yeah Cas?” Dean whispered back.

“I’ll send Inias back to pick you up, but dress in your riding gear. We’ll head out to Napa on the bikes.”

“What time?” Those gorgeous green eyes were open again and Cas was drowning in them.

“Inias will be here at 12pm and I’ll be ready to leave the office when you get there.” He kissed him quickly and pulled back before Dean could open his mouth and draw Cas into something deeper. “I’ll tell Rachel to make you breakfast in an hour.” He rushed from the room before he stayed there with Dean all day.

The smell of coffee, bacon and pancakes roused Dean from his slumber. He was still lying naked on the towel in the middle of the bed. At some point during his nap, he’d pulled Cas’ pillow down and buried his face in the smell of the man he couldn’t get enough of. He pushed it aside and stood up.

He spotted a robe tossed over the back of the armchair he’d thrown their clothes last night. Clothes that were now missing, he noted as he slipped into the robe. He walked back to his room and dressed quickly. Heading downstairs, he greeted Rachel and took his seat at the table where she already had a plate waiting for him. Once he was seated, she carried over a second plate and laid it on top of the first. A small pile of macerated strawberries sat on two thick, fluffy-looking pancakes, with three strips of crispy bacon on the side of the plate. A tall glass of freshly squeezed orange and pineapple juice and a cup of coffee were also placed in front of him.

Dean sighed. He would last a month, maybe less, before the inactivity drove him crazy, but right now with the fancy nights out, lazy morning sleep-ins and cooked breakfasts, Dean felt he could get used to this life.


	13. Ask No Questions, Tell No Lies.

A courier arrived not long after Dean finished breakfast and delivered two large white boxes. Dean knew they would contain his and Cas’ clothes from the previous day. Knowing Meg, each item would be neatly folded and placed into the boxes. Dean tried to take the boxes upstairs, but Rachel declined his offer and took them up herself.

Dean wandered downstairs to the games room and racked the balls on the pool table. Snapping the cue forward, he watched the balls shatter across the table. Four solid balls in pockets. Dean smiled, not bad, even if he did say so himself. He gathered all the balls again and started dropping them back into the triangle.

‘Smoke on the Water’ started playing and Dean pulled his phone out, looking at the caller ID as he answered. “What part of me saying I was going to call you didn’t you understand?” Frustration laced his voice.

“Okay, I get it Sam, you were worried, but you don’t need to be. I’m fine.” Dean moved away from the pool table and sat down. He rested his head in his hand, elbow propped on the desk behind the couch.

“Sam,” Dean tried to interrupt.

“Sam,” he spoke for a second time.

“Sam,” his third repetition was filled with frustration.

“SAM!” Dean raised his voice. “Okay, I get it.” He sat back in the metal chair. “Lisa won a trip to Vegas and while we were there—”

“Sam,” Dean sighed. “It was an all-expenses paid trip. We weren’t going to be in San Francisco and there wasn’t going to be a chance for us to come out here, so no, I didn’t mention it to you.”

“Because I knew you’d do that and Lisa wanted… I wanted some time alone with her. You know?”

“I was getting to that. We were in the casino and we met this guy, who turned out to be Cas.” Dean paused, not sure how to tell this part of the tale. “He made Lisa and me an offer and when we… Lisa and I screwed it up and Cas’ brother got involved.” Dean stood up and walked to the French doors leading out to the yard.

“Yeah, Gabriel, that’s the one.” Dean frowned with distaste.

“Sam. Do you want the story or do you want to yell at me?” He leaned his forehead against the cool glass.

“Thanks.” Dean moved back into the room and sat on one of the chairs flanking the sofa. “So Gabe offered a new deal, I’m spending the week with Cas while Lisa is still in Vegas.”

“No, Sam, I don’t want to give you any more details than that.” Dean massaged his temples with his free hand.

“A lot of money okay?” He bit his lips.

“No, A LOT of money.” He ran his fingers back through his hair.

“What? What do you take me for? Really Sam? Do you really think I’d do that?” Dean stood up and started pacing back and forth in front of the sofa.

“No, Sam, that wasn’t part of the deal.”

“No, I...” Dean couldn’t lie to his brother, but he could stretch the truth and rearrange it to suit the narrative. Yes, he’d thought sex was part of the agreement when he made it, but Cas had made sure that Dean knew that it wasn’t. “Look Sam, you need to understand. Last night. Last night wasn’t part of any agreement or deal or bargain. Yes, Cas and I had sex last night, but it was because I wanted to, that’s it. That’s all I’m telling you about my sex life.”

“Sam.”

“Sam.”

“Damnit Sammy, I’m not cheating on Lisa.” He sank down onto the couch and rested his elbows on his knees, head hanging low. “She knows.”

“Sam.”

“SAM! Because that was part of the first deal.” Dean blew out his breath. “The first deal was a million dollars for me to spend the night with Cas. But that didn’t happen. Just let me tell it.” Dean covered his eyes with his hand. “Cas made the offer and left so Lisa and I could talk about it. But we took too long, by the time we went to see Cas to agree, he was leaving Vegas. He knew we wouldn’t agree, not within the few hours he had left in Vegas, which is why he made the offer. We were a safe bet.”

“Because of Gabe. You already said he’s known as the Trickster and can’t be trusted. He made some bet with Cas. Cas thought Lisa and I wouldn’t agree to it, he’d win the bet with Gabe and everything would be done.” Dean rubbed his hand down his face, stood up and started pacing again.

“But yeah. Lisa and I agreed. Cas tried to say ‘too late’, but Gabe was there and he changed the deal.”

“In for a penny in for a pound.” Dean stopped beside the pool table. Unable to keep his other hand still, he slotted the final few balls into the triangle. “So, Cas was leaving Vegas that afternoon and we - Lisa and I - agreed I would go with him. I’ve been out here since Sunday night, we’re heading back on Saturday. But Cas made it clear on the flight out here that sex wasn’t part of our arrangement.”

“No, I haven’t spoken to Lisa since Sunday.”

“No, it’s still not cheating Sam. Lisa thinks we’ve been fucking like bunnies since Sunday. She probably thinks we joined the mile high club.”

“Gee thanks, Sam. Just call me a whore why don’t you.”

“Sam.”

“No, Sam I don’t think it makes a difference. Lisa thinks we’re having sex. We had sex. I don’t understand why you’re making a big deal out of it.”

“Sam.” He pinched his nose. “Let it go Sam, or I’m hanging up.” Dean dropped down and sat on the floor, back against the wall.

“Thank you, Sam. Look, I’m heading into the city to meet Cas.” Dean checked his watch - 11:47am. Inias would be there any minute. “I need to get going. I’ll call you when I get home.”

“Home, home. Back in Sioux Falls. Let’s say Wednesday night?”

“Good good, I’ll call you then.” Dean hung up. Standing, he made his way back upstairs.

Sitting in the family room, fidgeting, Dean checked his watch - 11:53am. He had time for a short call before Inias was due so he let himself out onto the small deck. “Hey Lis.”

“I know, we said we weren’t going to.” Dean looked up at the bright blue sky above him, even though it wasn’t the right shade of blue, Dean caught himself thinking about Cas’ eyes. “I just wanted to check in with you. Make sure that we’re okay. That we’re going to be okay once this is all over.”

Dean chuckled at her answer. “Yeah, I guess I am. It’s just...” He paused, taking a moment to get his thoughts in order. “It’s different to what I thought it was going to be.”

“Not bad, no. Just… Look, I don’t know what I thought this was going to be.” Dean scuffed his shoe on the decking. “I miss you.”

“Thanks Lis.” Dean ended the call and stepped back into the house, only to find Inias standing in the hallway.

“I saw you step out as I came through the front door.” Inias held up an envelope in one hand, “Castiel wrote out a list of items for you to pack in these.” He indicated two sleek hard case backpacks he carried in his other hand. “I can pack Castiel’s if you’d like?”

Dean walked forward and opened the envelope so he could check the list. “No, I can do this. Could you check all the windows and doors are locked before we take off?” He headed back upstairs with the backpacks to Cas’ bedroom and smiled at the directions on the note.

To the first case he added a small toiletries kit he found under the left sink in Cas’ bathroom. From the closet he added a clean pair of underwear, blushing when he found his satin pair neatly folded in Cas’ drawer. He left those there and turned to the shelves, grabbing a pair of indigo jeans, along with a dark blue t-shirt and a casual button down shirt in a lighter blue.

Walking into the guest room he didn’t stay in the previous night and wouldn’t be staying in again tonight, Dean dropped the two cases on the still neatly made bed. From the bathroom he collected his toothbrush and, rubbing his chin, his razor. He added those to Cas’ kit and closed that case. To the other he added much the same items of his own clothing as he’d packed for Cas. He debated going back and grabbing the white satin for a moment, but decided to strip and put the cherry red shorts on now instead.

Dean knew the riding gear he’d worn into the city on Tuesday was waiting for him in Cas’ office to change into, so all he and Cas needed for their night away was a nice shirt for dinner and a clean shirt for tomorrow. Dean would’ve been tempted to wear the same t-shirt from today again, but he knew riding in a leather jacket during summer didn’t make for pleasant smelling pits. He added two pairs of clean underwear and socks to his backpack and then went back to add a second pair of boxers to Cas’ case, as well as socks which weren’t on the list. Both packs secure, he found Inias waiting for him at the front door. “Okay, I’m ready. Let’s go.”

Dean didn’t allow himself to think too much on the drive in. Every time he did, he started thinking about Cas on his knees, pulling the satin underwear down Dean’s legs. So he talked to Inias about the city in general and about the Napa Valley specifically.

Inias talked about the B&B he’d booked them into. It boasted two honeymoon suites that he’d been able to book for Castiel and Dean to stay in. Dean almost told him two rooms weren’t necessary but then realized they had been necessary when Inias made the booking. Dean wasn’t sure if Cas wanted his employees knowing they were sleeping together.

Except Rachel obviously knew and knew about his panties as well. Although, maybe she thought those belonged to Cas since she’d put them in his closet and not Dean’s. However, both his and Cas’ tuxedos had been hanging in Cas’ closet, she must know the second one belonged to Dean.

“They also provide a shuttle service to a couple of the larger wineries and some of the local restaurants, including the one you have reservations for tonight,” Inias was still talking about the B&B.

Dean wasn’t sure how much he’d missed so he made a positive sounding murmur, hoping Inias would continue talking. Inias must have realized that while Dean wasn’t paying attention to what he was saying, Dean also didn’t want to sit in silence. So Inias filled the car with random facts and insights into the areas they drove through, pointing out different things here and there. “How much longer do you think until we’re at the office?” Dean asked.

“Maybe ten minutes? Traffic looks pretty clear.”


	14. White Wine In The Sun.

The ride out to the Napa Valley from Cas’ office had taken more than three hours and Dean was sure it could’ve been done in less than half the time but they’d turned down every interesting side road they’d come across after they crossed the Golden Gate Bridge. Come to think of it, Dean was fairly sure taking the Golden Gate had been their first scenic detour.

They arrived at the estate where they were staying the night and Cas checked them in. When they were handed keys to two separate suites, he explained he would still pay full price for the last minute cancellation, but they only required the one room.

“I was told you run a shuttle?” Dean inquired as their host, Julie Hudson, showed them to their suite upstairs.

“We do, but it’s by arrangement only. I believe Evan has you scheduled for a 7pm reservation at Mustards Grill?” Julie asked as she opened two doors opposite each other at the end of the upstairs hallway. “These are the two suites you’re paying for. I’m happy for you to have a look at both and decide which you’d like to stay in.”

Dean walked into the first and had a quick look around, then switched sides and checked the other room. They were both identical, mirror images of each other. One was called the East room, the other the West. Both had south-facing French doors leading onto balconies that overlooked a small pond. Each room boasted a king sized bed and all the other accruements one would expect. Even the bathrooms were the same, featuring classic marble tiles with separate large shower and an oversized soaker tub.

There was almost nothing to distinguish the rooms apart, except for the large bay windows with built-in seating. The West room window showed the sun dipping down to the horizon so Dean chose it over being woken at dawn in the East room.

“We have complimentary wine tasting downstairs, where we showcase not only our own wines, but several of the other smaller wineries in the area as well,” Julie told them after closing the East room. She tapped the key against her hand for the moment. “Since you’re still paying for the room, I’m happy to leave the key with you if you want.” Cas took it from her and thanked her for her time.

“So, what do you want to do for the next few hours?” Dean asked.

“When I planned the trip, I thought we would spend the afternoon riding.” Cas shut the door behind him and crowded Dean backwards to the bed. “Now I’m thinking that we can either go downstairs and taste some of the no doubt fabulous wines, or...” Cas pushed Dean down onto the bed.

“Or?”

He climbed onto Dean and ground his hips downward. “Or we could stay up here until we have to leave for our reservation.”

“I like plan B,” Dean reached up and pulled Cas down for a kiss.

“Me too,” he agreed.

Dean expected something hot and heavy, fast and out of control. His blood was rushing and he was desperate to make Cas feel the same. He thrust his tongue up into Cas’ mouth deepening their kiss, sucking Cas’ tongue down into his own mouth, tasting him. Dean moaned, a wanton sound he didn’t even try to hide.

“We should get undressed,” Cas breathed into Dean’s open mouth and chuckled at his enthusiastic response. Dean’s hands were shoving Cas’ open jacket down off his shoulders. He sat upright over Dean’s hips to remove it more easily then had to stop and take deep breaths when Dean wiggled underneath him to remove his own jacket.

Dean didn’t care that he whined when Cas slid from his body to stand up. He sat up himself to remove his boots, realizing they could strip faster if they concentrated on their own clothing. Cas, being upright, was ahead of him, already pulling the last of his socks off when Dean stood to remove his jeans. He slid his thumbs under the waist band and nearly tucked them into his briefs to remove them in one motion the same as Cas had. It wasn’t until his thumbs grazed the satin that he recalled the cherry red booty shorts he’d put on just for this occasion.

Dean stepped to the side, away from Cas and lowered his jeans slowly, revealing his underwear inch by inch. Cas’ eyes never left the V of Dean’s open jeans from the moment the smallest flash of red grabbed his attention until Dean’s red panties were fully uncovered. Dean stepped backward out of the pool his armored jeans made around his calves. He reached down and peeled his socks off, standing in all his satin-sheathed glory.

“Dean, turn around.” Cas’ voice was husky as he spoke. Cas groaned aloud at how the satin had ridden up, exposing pale half-moons of Dean’s flesh. “Stop,” Cas commanded, reaching out to hook a finger on each hand under the hem on Dean’s outer thighs. He glided his fingertips around, drawing the fabric outward and soothing it down into its correct position. He sunk to his knees, rubbing his face against Dean’s satin-clad cheeks, feeling the roughness of his five o’clock shadow catch on the smooth material.

Cas gripped Dean’s hips and leaned his forehead against Dean’s tailbone, his nose aligned with the cleft of Dean’s ass. “Dean, I want to destroy these panties,” he spoke with his lips pressed against them. “I want to destroy you in these panties. I want you spread under me, writhing in pleasure, as you fill your pretty little panties with your hot come.”

“Jesus, Cas,” Dean was a quivering mess at the thought.

“Get on the bed Dean,” he ordered. Dean scrambled to obey, lying across the end of the bed. Cas stood over him, slowly stroking himself just looking at the gorgeousness that was Dean Winchester in a scrap of red satin ill-equipped to contain him when his cock was this erect. The panties were already darkening with his excitement.

Cas cat-crawled on his hands and knees up Dean’s body until their chests were flush, then Cas dropped down onto his elbows. He kissed Dean, thoroughly exploring Dean’s mouth with his tongue, their chests brushing against each other, but not yet pressing down. He broke the kiss to speak. “I’m going to make you come just like this.” He rolled his hips downward, grinding against Dean’s hard length with his own. “Just you, me and your red red panties.”

It was slow and torturous, every roll of Cas’ hips sliding his cock along the length of Dean’s, the slippery satin providing both a smooth gliding action while also denying true contact. They couldn’t go too fast or the satin warmed unpleasantly with friction. They were forced into a pace that wasn’t enough yet still moved them towards their crescendo at a glacial pace.

Cas was half sitting in Dean’s lap, his hands pinning Dean’s hips in place so he could keep their alignment. Dean’s hands were on Cas’ hips, urging him to move faster as he tried to buck up and get more stimulation.

And those little satin shorts became wetter and wetter, hotter and hotter. Cas’ cock rubbed up one side of Dean, then dragged diagonally back across and running up the other side on Cas’ next forward roll, smearing even more pre-ejaculate down and across on the return.

If Dean could get enough air to cry out he’d be sobbing for his release, but Cas claimed every breath for himself, sharing all of his own in return. Dean shimmied his hips again, trying for more contact. Cas’ head caught for a moment on Dean’s and that was it, Cas was lost. He thrust downward as he pulled Dean up by the hips, stuttering in his thrusts. Head to head, damp satin doing nothing to disguise every ridge and vein.

One hand moved under Dean, lifting him up further, while the other hand cupped over their combined crowns, capturing Cas’ issue and spreading it over Dean’s panties. Dean didn’t know if it was the knowledge that Cas was marking him, his panties, him through his panties, or the feel of Cas’ hand on his cock but Dean tumbled over the edge of reason and came hard.

Cas held his weight off Dean for as long as he could, propped up on his knees and elbows. Dean had other ideas and tugged him down, flush from shoulder to hip with Cas’ face buried in Dean’s neck. Dean threw his head back as he waited for the world to stop spinning out of control. “Cas?” Dean’s voice quavered.

“Yes, Dean?”

“We need to do that again. Not right now, but yeah, we need to do that again.”

“Yes Dean.”

  


.oOo.

  


They nearly missed their reservation. They would’ve if they hadn’t received a confirmation text saying the car would be ready in 30 minutes. They’d fallen asleep tangled in each other’s arms, legs intertwined, panties drying stiff with their spend.

Cas traced the edges of the stain. “I ruined your pretty underwear,” he sighed.

“They’re wash and wear.”

“They are?” Cas eyed them dubiously.

“Yup, it’d be silly to buy underwear that wasn’t,” Dean reassured him.

“I guess we really can do this again then,” Cas smirked. “Come on. Five minute shower, no sexytimes. We have a dinner to get to.”

The shower ended up taking twenty minutes without them even doing anything sexual in it. However, Dean washed Cas’ hair for him and conditioned it too, using the little bottles of watermelon scented products from his kit. Cas wanted to return the favor but Dean refused to use Cas’ shampoo, so Cas used the bottle the B&B supplied.

They hurried to pull clothing on over still-damp skin, rushing downstairs having only run fingers through their hair, laughing. Dean spent the drive to the restaurant trying to get Cas’ hair to sit somewhat neatly, but no matter what he did it still looked like they’d just spent the afternoon having sex. Which is exactly what they’d done, so Dean gave up and spent the final minutes of the drive kissing Cas.

They arrived just shy of their 7pm reservation and were shown directly to the table. Dean was very happy to discover that Mustards Grill included a cheeseburger on their menu, he ordered it with added bacon and a side of onion rings with house-made tomato-apple ketchup. Cas ordered the same burger but also added avocado along with the bacon. Since both burgers came with fries, Cas forwent ordering a side after he was able to gain Dean’s agreement to share the onion rings.

“Cas, you can’t make noises like that when you’re eating, not when we’re in public.” Dean adjusted how he was sitting. At 34 years old, his refractory period should be longer than this, but there was something to be said for the first days of a new sexual relationship to get the motor running at peak efficiency.

“This makes me very happy,” Cas mumbled around the mouthful of burger he’d bitten off.

“I can tell. You were making the same noises earlier.”

Cas flushed pink. “You made me much ‘happier’ than these,” he gestured at the two burgers between them.

“No air quotes, Cas, especially when you’re holding food,” Dean shook his head.

“You were telling me about your car.” Cas made the obvious ploy that if Dean was talking, Cas could continue eating.

“Yeah,” he grinned. “I don’t know, Sam must have been four or five? I was like nine? Dad was driving us cross country, he’d pull in to get gas and we’d found a couple of small knives. One of them might have been a switch blade.” Dean bit into his burger and chewed for a moment, washing it down with a mouthful of beer. “Anyway, when Dad would go inside to pay and we were in the car by ourselves, I’d turn around and kneel on the back seat, Sammy standing beside me, and we’d work on carving our initials into the rear deck. We needed to be fast too, because we knew if Dad caught us, he’d have tanned our hides. So we must have worked on those for days.” Dean shook his head.

“Did it survive the crash?” Cas asked, remembering Dean talked about rebuilding the car when it had been hit by a truck.

“Ah yeah, yeah it did, if it hadn’t I’d have re-carved my initials, got Sam to do his on the replacement. In a lot of ways we grew up in that car, for a long time it was home.” Dean swirled an onion ring through the apple ketchup, surprised by how good it tasted. “When I put my Baby back together, I made sure all those little touches got put back too.” He ate another ring. “It’d just be wrong if I turned the heat on and I couldn’t hear Lego rattling around in the vents, or if the army man wasn’t stuck in the rear driver’s side door. Me and Sammy, we left our mark on that car, I needed to put them all back.” Dean ate his burger quietly. “It’s the blemishes that make her beautiful.”

Cas caught his eye and smiled, nodding his agreement. He was happy to sit and wait for Dean to be ready to continue.

“After we moved to Sioux Falls, Dad gave the Impala to me and he got himself a truck, said it was better for his work. I was 19, Sammy was 15 and we did crazy shit, especially after he got his license. We drove a thousand miles for an Ozzy show and two days for a Jayhawks game.” Dean shook his head, remembering. “When it was clear, we’d park in the middle of nowhere and sit on the hood, watching the stars for hours, without saying a word. We still do that when we’re together.”

“Would you like to see our dessert menu?” Their waitress appeared to clear their table and check on them.

“Do you have pie?” Dean asked.

“We have a lemon-lime tart capped with a ridiculously tall brown sugar meringue,” she answered.

“I’ll have me a piece of that,” he responded. “What about you Cas? Do you want anything?”

“I’ll have a glass of Limoncello, thank you,” he ordered. She nodded and disappeared with their dishes.

“Really, Cas? No pie?” Dean joked. “I’m not known for sharing my pie. We’ve talked about this before.”

“I am aware of your pie addiction, yes,” Cas smiled warmly, “I’m not sure there is anyone who has met you who doesn’t know about your pie ‘thing’.”

Dean rolled his eyes, but said nothing. It should’ve worried him how comfortable he was just sitting with Cas, not saying anything, content in the shared silence. He didn’t know how long they’d been sitting looking into each other’s eyes when their waitress returned with Dean’s pie and Cas’ digestif.

The meringue layer was as ridiculously tall as advertised, but Dean didn’t let it distract him from slicing off the tip of the pie with the fork provided and shoving the too large wedge into his mouth. Even he could tell the noises he made around the mouthful were filthy, but in case he needed it, Cas’ eyes going dark confirmed it for him.

“Oh god, Cas, you gotta try this,” he moaned.

Cas, liqueur glass at his lips, took a small sip before setting it back on the table. “I thought you didn’t share pie, Dean?”

“Shut up and try this.” Dean cut another section of the tart off and held it out for Cas. Blue eyes blown wide with lust met and captured green. Cas reached forward, gripping Dean’s hand holding the fork steady as he leaned in and wrapped his lips around the tines, his eyelids fluttering closed as his senses were filled with sweet meringue, sour lemon-lime filling and buttery case.

Cas sat back slowly eyes closed savoring the combined flavors. Swallowing, he looked at Dean. “We should leave. Soon.”

He nodded. “Yeah, we should.” Dean looked down at the pie of his plate, barely touched and debated standing up and leaving it behind.

“The closest Uber is 20 minutes away,” Cas spoke, looking at his phone. “You have time.” He picked his glass up and took another sip of the pale yellow liquid. Dean nodded and set to work devouring the pie, sharing every other bite with Cas and sipping from his glass as well.

Somehow during their frenzy, Cas was able to catch the waitress’ attention and sort the bill out. They walked out of the restaurant as their driver pulled in to pick them up. Eyes burned across the expanse of the rear bench seat, each knowing they couldn’t touch before they reached their room lest they combust.


	15. The Closer We Get, The Further Away We Are.

Dean woke to Cas running lazy fingers along his spine. He was lying on his stomach, arms curled around the pillow his face was buried in. His legs were trapped under one of Cas’, his foot resting on Dean’s calf. The patterns Cas drew faltered as Cas became aware Dean was awake. “Hello Dean.”

“Mornin’ Cas.” Dean turned his head and captured the other man’s lips. “Fancy meetin’ you here.”

“Fancy that,” Cas chuckled. “We should get up and head downstairs for breakfast.”

“Or we could stay here,” Dean offered.

  
  
  


  


“I could stay here, you could go and brush your teeth,” Cas deadpanned.

Dean leaned forward and kissed him again, dipping his tongue into Cas’ mouth and tasting his cinnamon toothpaste. Cas had already been up and taken care of his morning breath, so it was only fair Dean did the same. “Don’t move,” Dean ordered.

“I’ll be right here, waiting.” Cas propped the pillows up behind his head and watched Dean walk across the room into their bathroom. Cas smiled lazily at him through the open door while Dean went through his morning routine. Their eyes met and Dean found it hard to turn away even for the short amount of time he needed to rinse the toothpaste from his mouth.

He hurried back to the bed, hoping to enjoy a lazy morning in bed with Cas. “We don’t really need to be anywhere, do we?” he asked, kissing his way down Cas’ chest.

“Inias is picking us up at the house at 11am for The Josephine Barnes Foundation luncheon.”

“The who ‘n’ what now?” Dean lifted his head.

“They raise money and awareness for Sarcoma,” Cas told him. “It’s a cancer that mainly affects children.”

“And that’s the mood officially ruined. Okay, get up, we need to get going.” Dean got back out of bed and pulled a fresh pair of boxers out of his backpack.

“We have time for a shower,” Cas pulled the underwear out of Dean’s hand and tossed it on the bed. “I’ll wash your back for you.”

“Just my back?” Dean followed him into the bathroom.

“I thought I ruined the mood?”

“Times change,” he spoke into the nape of Cas’ neck as he bodily walked Cas into the large shower.

It wasn’t physically as large as the one in Cas’ home but it did have an interesting array of spray jets on the wall, so Dean allowed the pulsing water to massage his trembling muscles as Cas took them in hand. Cas had placed a tube of silicon based lubricant in the shower at some point without Dean’s knowledge, he soon learned the joys of using something that wasn’t water-soluble in the shower. Also the inherent problems of having to wash said product from too sensitive flesh afterwards.

Dean fell onto the bed, still half wet, legs too weak to hold him up any longer. “Cas, what do you do to me?” It was a rhetorical question, he didn’t expect an answer.

Cas ignored him for the moment, taking the time to get dressed. “We were meant to be downstairs for breakfast,” he checked his watch, “nearly an hour ago.”

“Really? Why would they be expecting us an hour ago?” Dean asked.

“Mmmm, I went down yesterday while you were sleeping and placed an order.” Cas grabbed Dean’s hands and pulled him upright. “Come on. Your stomach is making so much noise I can’t hear myself think.” Dean stood and dressed, scattering clothing everywhere from the previous day, but he figured they could clean up after they’d eaten.

  


.oOo.

  


The ride back to Cas’ house wasn’t as leisurely as the ride out to Napa the previous afternoon. Mainly due to their morning shenanigans and the fact that Julie was apparently used to her guests not arriving downstairs when they said they would, as she didn’t start cooking breakfast until they appeared.

They arrived back with 40 minutes to spare and, since riding in full gear in the middle of summer wasn’t the freshest thing to do, they’d raced straight for the shower. Amazingly, they were able to keep their hands mostly restricted to their non-erogenous zones. There were a few touches here and there, but the idea of Inias catching them in the shower didn’t appeal to Dean.

The luncheon itself was a snoozefest. While the charity seemed to be doing good work, whomever had put the event together had apparently chosen the most boring option every time. The menu itself should’ve been stunning but each of the courses were tiny. They were exquisite morsels to be sure, but Dean had never been so happy that he’d had such a large breakfast.

“You knew,” he accused Cas after the appetizer had been cleared. “ _Buffalo de Stracitella, pickled broad beans, broad bean flowers, and lupin cracker_

_.” He read out loud from the menu card that sat between their two seats. The description made it sound interesting. It had been exactly two perfect bites._

“I don’t know what you mean,” Cas spoke quietly.

“This ain’t a meal, it’s a tease,” Dean hissed at him. They were sitting at a large table with ten other people, whom Cas had greeted awkwardly when they were shown to their chairs. The table was filled with couples much like themselves, more interested in ignoring everyone else at the table and conversing quietly between themselves, but that didn’t mean Dean was willing to make a scene. “What’s the next course?”

“Our entrée is an _18 hour Wagyu Brisket, served with celeriac, black cabbage and lemon thyme crumble_. I’m going to guess no more than five mouthfuls.” Cas grinned at the face Dean pulled. “We still have both a cheese course and dessert to get through.”

While they waited for entrées to be served, they listened to the story of Josephine Barnes. A bright young girl who died when she’d been misdiagnosed, not even diagnosed at all truly until it was much too late. Her aches had been dismissed by everyone as growing pains. It was heart breaking listening to her mother and brother speak of the strength Josephine had shown right up until the end.

As the cheese course was served, the large TV screens in the corners of the room which had shown a still image of Josephine taken not long before the end, started moving. The change was very subtle, but Dean was aware Josephine was breathing and looking straight down the camera’s lens. “It’s time, I think. Hey, don’t cry, I’m going somewhere better.” There were muffled sounds from behind the camera that couldn’t really be heard. “I’m dying, it’s okay. I fought, but now it’s time for me to rest. You have to take up the fight now. Make sure that this doesn’t happen to anyone else.” Speaking so much must have winded her, because she fell back on the pillows piled up behind her. The image stilled again.

A young boy stood at the podium. “My sister was the bravest person I will ever meet. At the end she made me and my mom promise we would keep on fighting for her.” He took a deep breath. “That’s why we’re here today, asking for your help to do just that. Please give generously.” He stepped back from the microphone and retreated through a doorway.

“Damn,” Dean pushed his plate aside, he wasn’t hungry and what little appetite he had just disappeared.

“After the dessert has been served, the tables will be cleared and everyone will sit around and congratulate each other as they write out large cheques to be given to the foundation. There will be coffee and cognac, probably cigars out on the balcony. We can leave while the tables are being cleared if you want.” Cas reached into his breast pocket and pulled out what was unmistakably a folded check.

Dean nodded. As much as he enjoyed spending time with Cas, he didn’t enjoy spending time at these events Cas seemed obligated to attend. It was like the suit he was wearing. He might look good in it, but he wasn’t at peace. He’d much rather be wearing jeans and a plaid shirt.

The staff began their sweep around the room clearing the last course and Dean snatched the last mouthful of cheese off his plate before they got to his table. No use wasting food, even if there wasn’t that much of it. Tables cleared, the dessert plates started coming out. A single Petit four of Vahlrona chocolate, sea salt and pecan, served with a quenelle of brown butter ice cream. Dean stared at his plate, clearly unhappy. “You can’t always have pie,” Cas whispered in his ear.

“I don’t understand why not,” he muttered.

  


.oOo.

  


“So what are we doing for the rest of the day?” Dean asked as they pulled out of Cas’ office building. They’d stopped in to pick up the random items of clothing Dean had left in Cas’ office. Changing back and forth between riding gear, suits and what Dean thought of as normal clothing as often as he had between Cas’ office, Crowley’s and the house meant Dean had clothing everywhere. Luckily, anything left at Crowley’s on Wednesday had been couriered directly to the house already.

Cas checked the time. It was a little after three. “I hadn’t really thought about it. What do you want to do?” he asked. Dean shrugged in the passenger seat. “Okay, what would you normally do on a Friday night?”

“I used to head to the bar and hang out, but now...” Dean turned in his seat to face Cas. “Lisa has a yoga class after work and she’s not home ‘til after 9, so I take Ben to the movies.”

“Okay, why don’t we do that then? There is a theater not far from my place,” Cas spoke facing forward, not taking his eyes off the road. “Let me pull over and I’ll pull up their site. See what tickets are available.” A short while later, after some discussion about how this theater did reserve seating, Cas and Dean were cheek-to-cheek looking at Cas’ phone.

“I saw _Man of Steel_ with Ben on its opening weekend. It was no _Dark Knight_.” Dean hadn’t been impressed with the new Superman movie. Even Ben had agreed that Kal-El and Clark’s screen fathers Russell Crowe and Kevin Costner had been more interesting than Henry Cavill. “I wouldn’t mind watching _World War Z_ or _White House Down_.”

Cas checked tickets for both and found that while _White House Down_ was sold out for all sessions, there was a late afternoon showing of _World War Z_ they could make if they headed there right now. Handing Dean his phone, Cas asked him to finish purchasing the tickets while he got them back on the road. “What are you doing?” he asked when Dean squirmed in his seat to grab his wallet.

“Paying for the tickets,” he answered, Dean’s tone betraying how obvious he thought that was.

“It would be faster to use the PayPal option. I’m signed in on my phone, so you’ll just need to confirm payment.” Dean grunted but did as suggested. They spent the rest of the drive with Dean talking about the worries he had about the movie after watching the previews for it. “Why did you say you wanted to watch it if you’re so worried about it?” Cas asked, so Dean explained how good the book was, particularly the audio book. Even being an abridged version, the use of different actors for each of the chapters had given it an almost documentary feel which was fitting for the style the book had been written in.

  


.oOo.

  


“I’m so sorry,” Dean apologized again.

“It’s fine, Dean. I’m sure it was worse for you since you know the source material.”

“I don’t know man, I’m pretty sure that was bad any way you try and cut it.”

“I just don’t understand the plane scene. If people turn in 12 seconds, how did an infected get on to the plane?” Cas tilted his head to the side in that too-adorable, Dean-needed-to-just-kiss-him-right-now way that he had.

“Of all the plot holes in that movie, that’s the one that troubles you the most, huh?” Dean pulled him close, not caring they were in the middle of a parking lot. “What do you want for dinner, gorgeous?” he asked as he leaned in and nibbled on Cas’ lips.

“There’s a sports bar the other side of the parking lot,” Cas offered.

“There is, is there?” Dean looked up in the direction Cas indicated. “Let’s stop somewhere and pick up food instead. I wanna cook for you again.”

  


.oOo.

  


“Okay, I’m not cooking in a suit. Knowing my luck I’ll splash myself with something and ruin it,” Dean said after he put the bags of food on the kitchen counter, intending to go upstairs and change.

“So take it off.” Cas took his own jacket off and tossed it over the back of a chair. He worked the tie around his neck loose while Dean watched.

“Here?” Dean’s voice betrayed him by coming out as a squeak.

“Why not?” Cas placed his belt on the chair. He toed his shoes off and unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, stepped out of them easily. He started working the buttons on his shirt free from top to bottom.

Dean circled the island and calmly stripped down. He wasn’t sure if he was happy or sad he was wearing a pair of plain black cotton boxer briefs. Not after the way that Cas had reacted the day before to the red pair. He made a mental note to introduce Cas to the black ones. Even if they were a much more conservative style, they were still the stretch satin Cas had shown a liking for.

They stood facing each other, standing in socks, boxers and white undershirts. Dean was tempted to make a move, sidle over and kiss Cas breathless, when Cas grabbed their clothing and said he’d just take them upstairs. Dean sighed and stepped back into the kitchen.

He’d selected fresh pasta to cook. Nothing fancy, it was a meal he’d made plenty of times for Sam while he was in High School and he still made it when Sam came back to visit. Dean had never made it for Lisa and he wasn’t going to think about that at all.

He pulled a large pot out and, after filling it with water, put it on to boil. He washed, cleaned and diced two small bell peppers which he’d been pleased to find in yellow and orange. He rinsed a punnet of mini roma tomatoes and peeled and sliced two cloves of garlic. He grabbed a large skillet and set it on the stove to heat while he found a colander which he dumped the bag of baby spinach into and placed in the sink.

Frypan hot, he added a swirl of olive oil and a moment later added the whole tomatoes, diced peppers and garlic. He shook the pan and left it alone as he turned the water on and washed the green leaves, leaving them to drain in the sink. A pair of arms encircled his waist and a pair of warm lips kissed the back of his neck.

“I thought you were going to teach me how to make this?”

Dean handed a wooden spoon and put Cas in charge of stirring the contents of the skillet. “It doesn’t need too much attention because it’s only on a medium heat,” he said before he described exactly what he’d done so far. “Now the water is boiling, all I need to do is add enough salt to make the water taste of the ocean and add the pasta.” He threw a generous double pinch of salt to the water and lowered the egg fettuccini into the water. “Because it’s fresh it’ll only take a couple of minutes. That’s plenty of time for the peppers to soften and the mini romas to heat up and for some of them to start to split.”

Cas watched everything intently, never taking his eyes off of the pot and pan in front of him. He methodically stirred the frypan until Dean took the spoon away from him. “You need to let it be, allow the food to sit and cook.”

Cas complained that Dean told him to stir so that was what he’d done.

“You only need to do it occasionally, or if the food looks like it’s starting to burn,” Dean grinned. “If it’s burning, turn your heat down because you have it up too high.” Dean stirred the pasta with the same wooden spoon he’d taken off of Cas and pulled a few strands up out of the water. Pinching one between his fingers, he flicked the excess water off and folded it into his mouth. Nodding in satisfaction, he pulled another strand off the spoon and folded it into a ball shape. “Open up.” He placed it into Cas’ mouth

“Pasta is cooked when it’s al dente.” He pulled a cup out of the cupboard and scooped some water from the pot, leaving it to the side. He emptied the pasta into the same colander as the spinach, shaking it to remove the excess water.

Dean pulled a fork out and stabbed a piece of pepper, after eating it he got Cas to try a piece before adding a pinch of salt and a good grinding of black pepper. “You always want to taste your sauce for seasoning before you add the pasta.” He poured the pasta and greens into the frypan and gave everything a good mix up with the same spoon. He threw the spoon into the sink, picked the skillet up and tossed the pasta into the air, catching it again in the pan.

“You don’t need to do this,” he laughed at Cas’ horrified look. “You can mix it all together with the spoon. I was just showing off.” He pulled the spoon back out of the sink and showed Cas how to use the folding method to mix the pasta and sauce together. “See how this looks a little tight? If that happens, add a splash of water.” He used about a third of the saved cup. “You want to save some of your starchy water for this. It won’t taste as good if you use tap water.” He moved everything around in the pan again. “See how that’s loosened everything up?”

Cas nodded. He hadn’t understood what Dean meant when he said the pasta was tight, but he could see it looked better after Dean added the water.

“Grab some bowls, it’s ready to dish up.” Dean pulled a pair of pasta tongs out of the utensils drawer. For a man who didn’t know how to cook, Cas had a well-stocked kitchen. Dean piled pasta into the two bowls. He carried them to the table while Cas pulled out the jug of lemonade and glasses.

“This doesn’t look like any pasta I’ve had before,” Cas said as he dug in with the fork Dean put beside him.

Dean shrugged. “One summer when we were still traveling a lot as kids, we stayed in a cabin at some camping grounds and the family next door sorta adopted us. Couldn’t say ‘no’ to the mom, you know. We were only there for two weeks, but she taught me how to make this.” He helped himself to a big mouthful, chewed and swallowed before talking again. “It’s fast cheap and easy. You can add either bacon, or speck or even ham to it. You can make it with just the tomatoes and garlic if that’s all you have. They don’t need to be mini romas, although they’re best. You can use any small tomato that you can find, cherry and grape both work just as well”

“How long did it take you to cook this?” Cas asked, as he was upstairs when Dean had started.

“15? Maybe 20 minutes tops, that included washing and chopping.” They stopped talking after that, too busy eating.

“It’s still early but it feels so much later,” Dean complained, yawning as they finished cleaning the kitchen.

“It’s been a long day. How about we go upstairs, shower and climb into bed?” Cas offered.

“Mmm, are we showering together?” he asked, wrapping his arms around Cas and nuzzling at his ear.

“If you want to,” Cas breathed.

“Oh I want to,” Dean agreed. “And then I want you to fuck me into your mattress.” Cas groaned and pulled away from Dean, slapping him on the ass to spur him on towards the stairs.


	16. The Price Of Ransom.

Dean rolled his hips slowly, enjoying every whimper he pulled from Cas. He was so close to his own release that if Cas called his name, or clenched his muscles, Dean would be lost. He withdrew and slid home again, riding the edge, being careful to miss Cas’ over-sensitive bundle of nerves. Cas was still recovering from his own orgasm earlier. Dean knew he could take his own pleasure, or he could continue what he was doing now, teasing it out and making it last.

It was Saturday morning and once they were done Cas would want to get up, have a shower and start the day. Dean had no intention of starting the day any time soon. He wanted to stay here, right here, buried in Cas. With every slow stroke, Dean fought for his control back. Cas’ hands ran up his arms. “Dean,” he whimpered, voice broken. “Come for me Dean,” he pleaded.

“Fuck, Cas,” Dean gasped. Out of control and sobbing in his need, Dean rocked back into Cas’ body and let go.

He’d kept his weight on his knees and elbows when he’d collapsed, but Cas was still pulled up on Dean’s thighs and bent in half, his knees as close to his own shoulders as they were to Dean’s. “Dean,” he murmured in his ear. “Dean, you need to let me up.”

Dean nodded and kissed him, opening the cage of his arms so Cas could unhook his legs and allow them to drift out and downward. Dean growled when the movement threatened to unseat him from Cas’ body. He still wasn’t ready for this to be over. How was it Saturday already?

“Come on Dean,” Cas nuzzled the words softly along his throat.

“No.”

Cas chuckled and reached around to pat Dean’s ass. “We’ve had our fun, now it’s time to get up.”

“Can’t make me,” Dean whined.

“Get off me you oaf,” Cas laughed and flipped them to the side.

Dean cried out, whether from surprise or loss of Cas’ warmth holding him, he wasn’t sure. “You don’t fight fair.” He reached down and carefully peeled the condom from his body, a little surprised that it had come with him rather than being pulled off in Cas’ manhandling. He knotted it and left the bed for the bathroom and the bin in there for disposal.

“What do you want for breakfast this morning?” Cas followed him and prepared to brush his teeth.

“You.” Dean grinned, grabbing his own toothbrush and holding it out for Cas to add paste to.

“You’ve already had me,” Cas stated the obvious. “Now, what do you want to eat?”

“Pancakes.” The word was barely legible around the mouthful of cinnamon foam in Dean’s mouth. He spat into his sink. “I’ll make them for you.” Their eyes met in the mirror and Cas wasn’t even trying to hide the smile in his eyes as he rinsed his mouth out and washed his face. “Pancakes first, then we can shower and clean up any stray syrup.”

“You’ll be keeping your stray syrup to yourself,” Cas warned him as he headed for the dresser and his underwear. He pulled two pairs out and tossed one to Dean. “You can wear these while you cook.”

“Dressing me in your clothes now?” Dean pulled them on. Cas rumbled his assent before heading downstairs. Dean followed closely behind, wrapping his arm over Cas’ shoulders as they walked up the hallway to the kitchen. “Okay, I’ll start the batter if you make coffee.”

“I’ll even juice some fruit,” Cas agreed, pulling the juicer to the end of the island and out of Dean’s way. He opened the fridge to see what was left in the way of fresh fruit. Rachel did most of the shopping but she knew he wasn’t going to be home for more than three months so she’d only minimally restocked. “Between the fridge and the fruit bowl, I have a couple of oranges, a pineapple, some apples, pears, strawberries and blueberries.”

Dean tucked his head over Cas’ shoulder. “Juice the apples, pineapple, pears and strawberries. We’ll take the oranges with us. I’ll take the blueberries along with the buttermilk and eggs for the pancakes.” He reached around and grabbed the last two out himself.

  


.oOo.

  


Cas watched as Dean packed his clothes into his duffle. His suits were all in a brand new travel bag hanging over the balustrade waiting to be taken downstairs. “Okay, that’s everything,” Dean said as he wrapped his arms around Cas and pulled him into a kiss. “So we just leave my stuff in the entryway and Inias comes and gets it tomorrow?”

“We can’t transport all of this on the two bikes,” Cas said, “and Gabriel and I need the Attessa in Vegas so we can fly out to Singapore on Tuesday.” Dean nodded. What else could he do? Their time together was coming to an end. It was just an agreement, one Cas hadn’t even wanted to be part of. Dean needed to detach and remember his future was with Lisa.

“So now we just go?”

“Or we could stay, but you’ll need to fly tomorrow,” Cas told him.

“Let’s go.” Dean headed to the mudroom where his boots and helmet were along with Cas’. The backpacks had been filled earlier with a spare pair of jeans, a couple of t-shirts and some underwear. Once they got to Santa Barbara they’d change clothes and let their armored jeans air for the ride tomorrow. The only toiletries they were taking were toothbrushes, paste and deodorant. They’d use the hotel-supplied soaps tonight.

The last items in the bags were the two oranges from breakfast, one in each. Dean hoped to stop somewhere along the Big Sur and eat them together, watching the waves crash against the shoreline. Of course it wasn’t to be, because when they got to the turn off there was a big sign announcing the road was closed. They stopped at a diner for coffee and asked why but no one seemed to know or, more correctly, they heard five different stories from four different people.

They took the faster inland route and reached Santa Barbara before lunch. Originally, they planned to spend Saturday night there before riding through to Las Vegas on the Sunday. However, when Cas had pulled his helmet off, he found Dean had circled around him. Pulling up so their knees all but touched, Dean came to a full stop right beside Cas. If they both leaned over slightly they’d be kissing and, as soon as Dean got his helmet off, they were.

“It’s too early to stop and we still have hours we could be riding, Cas,” Dean whispered between kisses, ignoring the valet attendants hovering.

“If we ride through, we’ll be back in Vegas by morning. I’m not ready to share you yet.” Cas rested his forehead against Dean’s.

“What if we didn’t stop when we got to Vegas? What if we kept going?” Dean’s gaze pinned him in place.

Cas waved off the two young men who had started to close in on them. “We have an agreement Dean, we both signed it.” He dragged his hand through his hair. “I won’t go back on that. Neither will you. It’s not who you are.”

“Exactly what does that agreement say?” he asked, but didn’t stop for an answer. “That you’d have me back in Vegas tomorrow. Vegas, not Purgatory, and you will. We’ll ride through Vegas tomorrow, continue out to the Canyon. We can find somewhere to spend the night, get up early ‘n’ watch the sun come up. Ride back and meet everyone just like we both agreed.” Dean searched Cas’ face, hoping he was persuading him.

“We both know we won’t be getting up to watch the sun rise. We’d never make it back to Purgatory by ten.” Dean could see Cas wanted to say ‘yes’ and that was when Dean knew he had him.

“The agreement, as written, says after we return to Vegas on Sunday, I accompany you until we all return to Dick’s safe room. Yes, the time lock opens at 10am, but it’s not written in the ledger. Come on Cas, implied ain’t the same as explicit.” Dean smirked his cockiest grin at Cas. “Take me to the Grand Canyon, Cas,” he pleaded.

Cas captured his mouth, kissing him quickly before slipping off of his bike. “Okay, but we are stopping here for lunch.” He chatted to the valets before handing one of them his keys.

Dean slid off his Princess and gave his keys to the other valet. “Short lunch, then back on the road. The further we get today, the more time we’ll have at the canyon.”

  


.oOo.

  


They’d been riding for around ten hours when they pulled into Primm, eleven if you counted the hour they’d stopped for lunch. Dean pointed over at Whiskey Pete’s with its fairytale turrets and, laughing, suggested they stay there. Cas nodded his agreement and they’d pulled up to the valet parking. Cas had a short conversation with the staff there before the valets walked off with the bikes and he and Dean entered the hotel. Arm in arm, they walked up to the reception desk and Cas asked for their best room for the night. It took another conversation before Cas accepted the keycards to a room.

They entered an elevator and Cas crowded Dean into the corner. “How are you holding up?” He rested his hands on Dean’s hips.

“Good.” Dean’s breath hitched as Cas worked his hands down Dean’s thighs and lifted him. Cas had somehow slipped his legs between Dean’s and had his knees pressed against the two walls. Dean was sitting on Cas’ thighs with his back wedged in the corner, Cas’ fingers running lazy circles as his palms cupped Dean’s cheeks. “Better now.” He angled in for a kiss.

Cas pulled himself into Dean’s body, encouraging the gorgeous man to cross his ankles behind Cas’ back. The two of them worked to support themselves against the walls, backpacks forgotten on the floor. The bell as the doors opened was the only reason they separated.

They got their room door open and Cas leaned against the wall to pull his boots off. “Shower first,” he said, as he started stripping clothing from his body. He kissed Dean once he was in just his underwear. “Hurry up, we have no idea what the water is going to be like here.” He peeled the last remaining item of clothing from his body and stepped into the bathroom.

Dean had only removed his boots by that stage, so he quickly shed his own clothing to catch up.

The water held up surprisingly well through lazy blowjobs designed to work each other up but not to tip them over. There wasn’t a lot of night left, but Dean wanted to end it lying together in bed, happy and sated. Mostly he wanted to bottom again. He hadn’t done that since their first night together. He’d outright asked Cas to fuck him last night, but instead Cas had introduced him to the delights of intercrural sex.

Dean’s mind drifted back to the previous night, when Cas was sliding between his thighs, the head of his penis rubbing along Dean’s perineum nudging into his balls. The wet slick noises from the lube, Cas’ hands reaching around stroking him with one hand while pulling at his balls with the other. Dean’s hands gripping the bedhead while he pushed back towards Cas, wiggling, trying to get Cas to slip. Dean knew that hadn’t been a good idea because Cas hadn’t opened him up at all and it would’ve hurt if he’d tried to enter him.

But the memory of last night’s activity had Dean leaking so he threw the towel over the rail and pulled Cas back into contact with his body. Aligning their cocks, Dean grinded against Cas’ softening length. Cas had become distracted after they’d exited the shower with drying his body and hair. Dean still had random patches of wet skin, but he didn’t care.

Time was running out and he had a plan. “Cas,” he pleaded, “I want you. I want you to fuck me, take me, make me ache from your l –” he stopped abruptly, filled his mouth with the flesh of Cas’ shoulder instead and hoped Cas hadn’t heard how close he’d come to saying the L word. He sucked and bit, leaving a dark mark on his flesh. It was the first real mark either had left on the other’s body.

Dean didn’t care. Tonight he wanted Cas to be his and wanted to belong to him. Tonight and tomorrow were all he had left. He raised his mouth from the mark he’d been kissing. “Cas, please,” he pleaded again.

“I’m not going to do that, Dean. I don’t want you aching tomorrow,” Cas cupped his face, lifting it up from where Dean rested on his shoulder. “There are miles to go before we sleep and I have promises to keep.”

“Did you just misquote Frost to me?”

Cas pulled back and, ignoring he was naked, stood proud as if upon a stage and recited the poem in full.

_Whose woods these are I think I know._  
_His house is in the village, though,_  
_He will not see me stopping here_  
_To watch his woods fill up with snow._

_My little horse must think it queer_  
_To stop without a farmhouse near_  
_Between the woods and frozen lake_  
_The darkest evening of the year._

_He gives his harness bells a shake_  
_To ask if there is some mistake._  
_The only other sounds the sweep_  
_Of easy wind and downy flake._

_The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,_  
_But I have promises to keep,_  
_And miles to go before I sleep,_  
_And miles to go before I sleep._

“You’re infuriating,” Dean mock raged, as he stepped forward and kissed him. “What about if I flip a coin? Head’s you top, tails we finish what we started in the shower?” Dean snuck another kiss while Cas thought about it.

“Agreed,” he answered. Dean picked up his discarded jacket and the wallet it contained.

“I have a coin right here.” Dean flicked it high into the air. Cas caught it and grabbed Dean’s hand, slapping his on top of it, so their hands were held between them, Cas’ left hand holding Dean’s hand steady while Cas’ right palm held the coin tightly in place.

“Are you sure Dean?” he asked. “We can ignore this if you want.”

“What I want is you,” Dean whispered. “No matter what the coin decides.” Cas lifted his hand to reveal Washington. “See Cas? Even probability is on my side tonight.” Dean plucked the coin off the back of his hand and dropped it onto his discarded clothing.

“Dean?”

“Yes Cas?”

Cas couldn’t take his eyes off of the coin. He’d been sure it had landed head side up on a fold of Dean’s jeans, but it had teetered and flipped as it fell to expose a second George Washington in profile. “Is that a two-headed coin?”

“Maybe,” he answered, pulling Cas towards the bed and grabbing his pack with the lube and condoms in it on the way. “But are you really going to deny me?”


	17. Say Something, I'm Giving Up On You.

Dean downshifted and allowed Princess to glide to a stop in front of the reception office. They couldn’t be staying here, not right on the edge of the Grand Canyon, not during the middle of the summer season. No way there were any vacancies here. “Cas, they’re going to be booked solid.”

“This is where Inias has us,” he responded. Dean grunted as he swung his leg over and pulled his helmet off, walking in side-by-side with Cas.

Cas was finding it harder and harder to keep his hands to himself. From the time they woke up that morning to their detour out to Hoover Dam where they’d parked the bikes and walked out onto the dam itself. He’d changed his phone’s screen to the selfie he’d taken there – Dean standing with his arms wrapped over Cas’ shoulders, the sun on the water behind them.

Now here, they didn’t just walk close, they stayed in contact. It wasn’t just Cas either. Dean had his hand tucked into Cas’ rear pocket and they moved like they were one person. Cas already felt the open wound that was coming.

“Good afternoon, can I help you?” the fresh-faced youth behind the counter asked as they drew close.

“We have a reservation, under Novak.”

“Yes, I have you right here. May I have your license? And I’ll get you booked in,” he made conversation as he tapped on the screen. “You’re very lucky to get the cabin, you know. We were fully booked until this morning.”

“What happened?” Dean asked.

“The people who were staying with us - lovely couple, just married - got a call this morning that the bride’s sister went into labor, three weeks early. I guess when you’re a twin you just have to get back.” He handed Cas’ license to him and a pair of keys to each of them. “I was in the process of relisting the room as vacant on the website when your friend called.”

They finished up and rode the bikes right up to the front door of the cabin. They’d spent longer at the dam than they’d originally planned and it was close to sunset. Dean wanted to dump their gear in the cabin and get to the rim to watch the sun disappear. But when they let themselves into the cabin they were both shocked to find what they thought would be the back wall was actually a wall of glass with a perfect view of the canyon and the sunset.

They stood in silence, in each other’s arms and watched the sky turn dark. It was bittersweet in the knowledge this was their last night. “Cas, I don’t want to go out tonight. I know the guy said their restaurant was award winning,” Dean didn’t take his eyes from the sky and the stars that were slowly starting to appear, “but do you think we could get them to deliver food to us here?”

“I’m sure I can arrange that, Dean.”

  


.oOo.

  


Dean was dreaming. He recognized the area as the small lake where he and Sam spent the summer of ’93. Dean was 14, Sam just recently turned 10 and their Dad had gotten a series of jobs in nearby towns. They’d lived at a roadside motel in the middle of nowhere but the lake had been within walking distance. That summer was one of Dean’s happiest.

_In the dream, Dean was sitting in a chair at the end of the dock, pole in one hand, beer in the other, their old green cooler sitting at his feet. It was a scene that had never played out in actuality, only in his dreams. It was a very specific dream, one he only had when he was happy, so he treasured the moments between being asleep and awake. Dean took another pull from the bottle in his hand. He hadn’t been old enough to drink that summer. By the following summer it wouldn’t have stopped him, but that summer his afternoon fishing trips had been spent sitting cross-legged on the dock with Sam._

_Dean checked the line on the pole. He wasn’t sure if there was bait on the hook, but it didn’t matter. The dream had never been about catching fish. It was about an endless summer, beautiful sunsets and that fleeting feeling of happiness that was so hard to find the older he’d become._

_“Hello Dean.” Cas appeared standing off to his side, startling Dean._

_“Cas, what are you doing here?”_

_“You don’t think you deserve to be happy,” Dream Cas ignored his question. “But happiness isn’t something that has to be earned, Dean. You’re the architect of your life. You’re allowed to make the decisions that will make you happy.” The entire time Dream Cas had been speaking, he’d been looking out at the vista before them. The dream faded fast as he looked down towards Dean, vanishing as their eyes met. The last thing Dean saw was a flash of blue-white light._

Lying on a bed, legs entangled in a sheet, body naked and exposed, Dean groaned at the light spilling through the large picture window. He’d slept through the dawn. Dean stretched his arm out across the bed looking for Cas, finding only the cool expanse that spoke of Cas leaving a while ago.

He rolled over and sat up, taking in the cabin. Cas was seated at the small table, a cup sitting in front of him, coffee from the smell. He’d been looking at the phone in his hand, but he turned to smile at Dean “Morning sleepyhead, do you want coffee or a shower first?”

“You. I want you first, but let me brush my teeth.” Dean crossed the cabin and closed the bathroom door behind him. After a moment, the sound of the toilet flushing preceded the door being re-opened. “So, we got in too late yesterday to do much, do you want to see if there are any short trails we can take this morning?” Dean called out over the noise of the water running in the basin as he washed his hands and wet his toothbrush. He leaned in the doorway as he brushed his teeth.

“If there is one thing I know, it’s that those boots,” Cas pointed to their armored boots, “weren’t made for walking.” Dean smiled at his words. The words had been spoken in all seriousness, Dean wondered if Cas knew he was subverting Nancy Sinatra.

He walked back into the bathroom and spat out the foam. “Hey Cas, come have a shower with me,” he called out as he started the water running. They had an eleven o’clock check out and if they couldn’t go out and enjoy the Grand Canyon, then Dean wanted to make sure they enjoyed the rim-side cabin they were staying in.

“That shower is too small to do anything in Dean.” Cas peeled off the robe he’d found in the wardrobe, dropping it on the floor as he slid into the shower with Dean.

“It’s no smaller than the one we were in yesterday morning. Hell, we shared it pretty convincingly last night when we rinsed after our bath.” Dean picked up the tiny bar of soap they’d unwrapped last night and adjusted the showerhead to fall over Cas’ body. Once he was wet enough, he turned it to the side and soaped Cas up. Soapy bodies sliding against each other, Dean put the soap down and turned the showerhead back to rinse.

Dean followed the path of the water with his hands and lips, paying homage to every bite and scratch he’d left on Cas during their night in Primm and all the new ones he’d left last night. No one could look at Cas’ body and not know he’d spent the weekend in debauchery. Dean worked a new mark onto his chest.

“Dean.” Not a warning, or a request to stop, Cas’ gasp was a request for more. He pushed Dean more fully under the water, making sure they were soap free before shutting the water off and pulling Dean from the stall. He didn’t bother with towels, housekeeping would be changing the sheets in a few hours anyway.

They tumbled onto the bed and Dean regretted, not for the first time, he’d left the cherry red shorts in Cas’ drawer along with the white panties. When he’d been packing he’d looked at them and knew he’d never be able to wear them for Lisa. Cas had ruined them after all. Dean couldn’t have worn them without thinking of him. Oh, but to have them right now, or even yesterday morning.

He twisted and took Cas in his mouth. This was it, their last time together and Dean knew he wouldn’t be able to look at Cas without him seeing the tears in Dean’s eyes. So he did the only thing he could think of, he went down on Cas while presenting himself for Cas’ worship. If he felt any dampness on his thighs where there shouldn’t have been? Well, he didn’t say anything and neither did Cas.


	18. Time To Pay The Pied Piper.

Cas pulled up in front of Purgatory and waited for Dean to come up beside him. They kicked their stands down in tandem and dismounted. Cas pulled his helmet off and let his backpack slip off his right shoulder before handing his keys to one of the valets, gesturing for Dean to do the same. “That was a good ride. I called Gabriel when we were leaving the North Rim and told him we were running later than expected.” Cas started walking into the hotel and was pleasantly surprised that Dean not only walked beside him, but also slung his arm over Cas’ shoulders. He wrapped his arm around Dean’s waist and walked in step with him, the same as they’d been doing since the night of the ball. He’d thought now they were back in Purgatory, Dean would withdraw from him. “They’re most likely in the vault already waiting for us.”

“I guess we should head straight there then.” Dean frowned. He’d been looking forward to showering together, letting Cas wash his back, maybe fall down on his knees and taste Cas under a rain head one last time. It was hard to think that in less than 30 minutes, their time together would’ve ended. That tomorrow he’d be on a plane, with Lisa, flying back to South Dakota and his life. A life without Cas in it.

“This way, through to the casino. Roman’s private elevator is in the south wall.” Cas savored every easy step they took together, dreading the moment to come when he would no longer be allowed to touch Dean. As they neared the southern wall, his steps almost faltered as he fought a last insane urge to ask Dean to stay with him, to run away together, to just jump on their bikes and ride off into the sunset. He laughed at the thought. It wasn’t even 3pm yet.

Dean looked at him. “Care to share the joke?”

“Random stupid thought. It’s not worth sharing. Is that Charlie?” He swung his helmet up and pointed at the petite redhead standing near Roman’s private elevator.

“Looks that way.” Dean frowned some more. She was obviously waiting for them to arrive and, on seeing them, she opened a panel beside the elevator doors and spoke into a phone. They just caught her saying the doors were opening before she hung up and gestured for them to enter. As he could’ve predicted, Charlie followed them. Dean shrugged his backpack off his shoulder and dropped his helmet on top of it. Turning, he pressed Cas into the corner and kissed him.

Kissed him one last time, for everything he was worth. Dean pushed every emotion he’d felt over the past few days into that kiss, knowing he was never going to taste these lips again. “Cas,” he groaned, as he wedged his knee between Cas’ legs, pressing his thigh against Cas’ groin and rutting against his hip.

“Charlie, stop the elevator,” Cas bit out.

“I can’t, Dick is expecting us.”

“Do it now or explain to him why the Novaks will no longer be staying in any of his hotels.” Cas glared at her over Dean’s shoulder. An alarm sounded and the elevator stopped. Dean could hear Charlie on the phone trying to explain to someone that they needed just a moment more, but he ignored everything happening behind him as he drowned in Cas’ blue eyes.

“Pull your phone out and text me your address,” Cas ordered.

“Why?”

“Dean, we don’t have any more time. Please, for me, just do it.” Cas’ eyes pleaded with him.

“Okay.” Dean pulled his phone out and typed in the address but the little blue tick stubbornly stayed white, not sending.

“There’s no access down here,” Charlie told them. “Anything you try to text won’t send until you’ve passed back out of the faraday cage that encircles The Meat Locker.”

“But I’ll get it once we’re both back upstairs?” Cas asked. Charlie agreed. “I’ll have your bike shipped out to you.” Cas kissed at the flesh of Dean’s neck. Flesh he hadn’t left any marks on, knowing it wasn’t his to do so. Now, knowing these were his last moments, he bit down and sucked on the skin at the base of Dean’s throat, pulling as much blood to the surface as he could, leaving one outward mark on Dean’s body to match all the marks Dean had left on him.

“I need to start the elevator again. I’m sorry,” Charlie let them know as the alarm stopped and they moved again.

Dean reached up and threaded his fingers in Cas’ hair, pulling him from his throat and bruising his lips in a savage kiss. He felt the elevator come to a halt and kissed Cas one last final time softly, full of sadness and loss. He turned away and grabbed his helmet and bag. “I don’t want your bike, Cas.” He couldn’t look at Cas as he said it.

“It’s your bike, Dean. I bought it for you. I can’t imagine anyone else ever riding it. I’ll organize for it to arrive in a week.” Cas stepped out into The Meat Locker. “Richard! Thank you for waiting so patiently. As Lisa probably told you, Dean prefers wheels on the road so we took a scenic ride back out here.”

“I hope you had the sense to send the jet out anyway, Cassie. You know I only fly,” Gabe interjected.

“Of course. It should’ve landed last night. I hope Inias found you, Lisa? He was instructed to bring Dean’s luggage to you as soon as he arrived.” Cas turned and looked at Lisa for the first time. He could still feel Dean standing behind him and he wasn’t able to read Lisa’s facial expression as they silently communicated. He did however feel the slump in Dean’s energy as he sidestepped past Cas and went to Lisa’s side.

“The timer unlocked this morning at 10am as agreed. All we need to do is pull the case and sign the ledger.” Roman turned the lever and opened the safe door. He pulled the case out and placed it on the same trolley as last time. He withdrew the key from around his neck and placed his key in the center lock. Lisa walked over to the case, pulled her key out and put it in the right lock, Gabriel went to hand him the third key. However, Cas waved him off and took a step backwards.

He stepped right into Dean. Cas went to side step, but Dean’s hand came up to rest on his hip, hidden by the armor plated leather jacket he still wore from the ride. Cas stood ramrod straight for the barest breath before moving away, reaching Gabe’s side as Roman counted to three and the keys turned. The lid of the case sprung up slightly and Cas flipped it open. The 11 Purgatory plaques sat undisturbed in the case. Lisa moved her hand to reach in and grab them but Roman tutted loudly, reminding them all there was still the ledger to be taken care of first.

He placed it on top of the case, open at their page. “I need you all to sign this as completed. Then I’ll take my cut and Lisa can walk over to Charlie and organize the money to be transferred.” Cas pulled the pen out of Roman’s hand and scrawled his name across the bottom. “Do you need me for anything else?” he asked, and when Roman replied ‘no’ he turned to leave. Dean stood between him and the elevator.

Cas imagined him to be Greek god, standing in all his perfection, untouchable, distant, no longer his. “Good bye, Dean.” His voice somehow held steady as he walked past and pressed the button to call the elevator.

“Dean?” he heard Lisa call. The doors opened.

“Yes Lisa?” Dean’s voice, normally so warm, a honeyed whiskey Cas could’ve spent hours drinking from, now strangely cold and bitter. Cas entered the elevator but stubbornly refused to turn.

“You need to sign as well,” Lisa said.

The doors closed behind Cas. He hit the ground level button and collapsed against the wall. His plan now just to get out, get away, to not be anywhere near this place while Dean was still here. He walked out onto The Floor and headed towards the valet station at the hotel entrance, only to realize he’d left his helmet downstairs. Therefore, instead of asking for his bike, he requested a taxi and told it to take him to the Bellagio.

Dean watched the doors close cutting off his vision of Cas. He circled back to Lisa and plastered a bright smile on his face. “Sure, Lisa. Where?” He took the pen from her hand and signed his name between Castiel’s and Lisa’s, not for a moment dismissing the poetic justice of the ink staining the page between the two names. The names of people his heart lay torn between.

Hang on. Back up. What the fuck? Dean mentally shook his head the way a wet dog dried itself. He wasn’t in love with Cas. Hell, he might love Lisa but this past week proved to him he wasn’t ‘in love’ with her either. He couldn’t be, not and be able to fall so hard for Cas. Damnit! Not fall for Cas. Dean totally did not fall for Cas. He wasn’t in love with Lisa, but he did love her. He also wasn’t in love with Cas, nor did he love Cas. Cas was just some really fucking hot sex, which he wanted more of. Really, really wanted more of. Sweet morning sex, hot steamy showers, reading the comics curled up on the sofa while they shared a single mug of coffee.

“DEAN!” Lisa stood at the cage with Charlie and he hurried over to her. “We didn’t talk about what account to put the money in.”

“Do you have your account details?” Lisa nodded and Dean continued. “Then put it all in your account. I don’t have mine with me.”

“You can take the plaques with you now and meet me upstairs at the main cage later if you want to look up your account numbers?” Charlie smiled at Dean. “I’ll just do Lisa’s transfer now. See you upstairs in, say, 20 minutes?”

“Thanks Charlie.” Dean grinned at her. “I’ll be there waiting for you when you get there. Lisa, I have my keycard still so I’ll drop my stuff off in our room and meet you at the cage too?”

“Uh, sure. I guess.”

Dean didn’t wait. He strode to the elevator and hit the up arrow five or six times, impatient to get back upstairs and… And what? Find Cas? He wilted slightly as the doors opened in front of him. Their time was over. Cas had left without a final goodbye. He obviously didn’t want to see Dean anymore. Dean stepped out of the elevator and aimlessly walked back to the hotel’s reception area.

He thought about getting on his bike and riding off into the sunset. He chuckled to himself. Their home was to the east, so if Dean rode off into the sunset, he’d be headed home. Cas’ home. It was Castiel’s house, his home, not theirs, Dean didn’t live there anymore. Really, he never had. He’d just been a guest.

Dean went up to the room he shared with Lisa. He dropped off his backpack and helmet, changed into a pair of worn-in jeans and left the armored jacket behind. He tied his shoelaces and looked at himself in the mirror. The mark was low on his neck and the jacket had hidden it, but his Henley didn’t. Dean ran his fingertips over it and wondered how long it would last. He pressed his fingers into it remembering the shape of Cas’ lips, the sting of his teeth, the heat of his tongue as he’d laved at Dean’s flesh.

His phoned pinged in his pocket. A message. He checked it just in case it was Cas, hoping it was, but not surprised to find it was Lisa checking to see where he was. He tapped out a quick reply saying he was on his way down and exited the room.

Lisa was standing near the main cage. Dean smiled at her and waved the card he’d pulled out of his wallet in the elevator. He stepped up to the window Charlie was standing behind and handed her the chips and card. “Hey Charlie, long time no see.”


	19. The Sleeper Must Awaken.

“Dean...” Lisa stopped. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to say or what questions she wanted to ask. They’d been apart for more than week and while it wasn’t the first time they’d spent time apart, it was the first time Dean had been intimate with someone else. Not that Lisa had slept with anyone else during the time they’d been exclusive. Nevertheless, Lisa had been in an open relationship before and Dean had not.

He looked up at her and something in his eyes, there one moment, but gone before she could work out what it was, felt like cold fingers trailing down her spine. “Let’s get changed and go for a swim.” He smiled widely at her, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Sounds like a plan.” She was just happy he wanted to be out with people and not asking to stay hidden in their room until checkout tomorrow. They headed to the elevator banks, walking in silence. Lisa reached over and took Dean’s hand in her own, ignoring the small flinch she tried to convince herself she hadn’t felt before his fingers slipped between hers. They changed quickly into their bathing suits and headed downstairs to the pool.

Lisa soon learnt her mistake. Unlike their first day spent poolside, sunbathing and playing in the water together, Dean spent the afternoon swimming laps. Nothing fast, just a slow up and down the pool that he could maintain for a long time. Every time he stopped for a break, he did so at the other end of the pool from her and he’d start swimming again before she could join him.

Dean had picked a near perfect solution to his problem. He wanted to be alone and while he would’ve preferred sitting at a bar drinking, he would’ve had Lisa at his side trying to get him to talk, or he would’ve had to tell her to leave him alone. He didn’t see either of those options going over well with Lisa. Thus, he swam back and forth, up and down the length of the pool, allowing the water to cocoon him away from everyone.

It was after six when Lisa had had enough. She waited in the middle of the pool lane for Dean and pulled him to a stop. “Time to get out of the water.” He stood looking at her blankly for a second and nodded his head. He pulled her close and kissed her forehead.

“Shower and dinner? I’m starved after all this exercise.” He climbed out of the pool and reached back to help Lisa.

“I’m not surprised, you’ve been swimming for two and a half hours.” Lisa wrapped a towel around her hips and threw her wrap over her shoulders. “Were you able to think?” She looked at him, the worry clear on her face.

“You know that thing you say about yoga. When you don’t think, you just be?” Dean walked beside Lisa as they entered the hotel “I never got that before. But it makes sense now.” He shrugged. The ride up to their floor was quiet. The space between them heavy with unspoken words. They would come, but Dean wasn’t ready for them yet.

Lisa took the bathroom first and Dean took the time to check his phone. A shiver of excitement went through him when he saw there was a message, but it was from Bobby. Not from Cas. Why would it be? He sighed and opened the message. Nothing important, just a quick reminder that Bobby would be picking them up from the airport tomorrow and to be sure to let him know if there were any delays at their end. He tossed the phone onto the bench at the end of the bed and walked out to the balcony, where Lisa found him after her shower.

“Bathroom’s free. Do you want me to order room service?” Lisa held the menu up.

“I wanna take you out. Get dressed in somethin’ pretty, let me show you off.” Dean closed the bathroom door behind himself and breathed out. He started the water and, peeling his wet trunks off, stepped into the warm spray. He lathered his hair with the complimentary shampoo and in his memory felt Cas’ hands caressing his sides. Twelve times they’d showered together. It felt like more, it felt like there should’ve been more. Dean rinsed his hair and picked up the bar of soap. Quickly and unemotionally swiping it over his body, under his arms, across his chest, down his stomach, his head leaned against the tiles. The bar passed between his legs and Dean didn’t think about Cas.

He let the water run the soap off his body and tried to think of something, anything that would kill the longing in his heart. Lisa, he’d think about Lisa. He’d take her out tonight, away from Purgatory lest something here inadvertently remind him of Cas. That other hotel, the one with the mini Eiffel Tower. He’d take Lisa there for their last night in Vegas. They would do something romantic. No matter how much he felt like he was shattering. Too late, he realized he’d left all his clothing in the bedroom. He’d been walking around nude in front of Cas for days, but the thought of being naked in front of Lisa was daunting.

Especially with the dark bruise on his collarbone. Not that she hadn’t seen it already, it was kind of hard to hide a mark there when he was only in swimming trunks, but naked it felt so much more exposed. Towel pulled tight around his waist, he opened the door slowly. Seeing Lisa dressed and out on the balcony, he dashed to his bag and pulled out underwear, slipping them up his legs under the towel like he was in public and scared of being caught. He pulled on a white undershirt and opened the suit bag he’d acquired while he was with Cas.

He pulled one of the suits out which had a dress shirt tucked into the jacket. It had survived mostly wrinkle free due, he suspected, to Inias not folding the bag for travel. He dressed quickly, shirt, pants, socks and shoes. He found a belt and cuff links in his bag. He also found the ring box he’d carried all the way from Sioux Falls, when he thought he might ask Lisa to marry him. He knew now that would never happen. Whatever the future brought, Lisa wasn’t the one.

He’d been right to question whether or not marriage was the right path for them. It wasn’t. While he could still see them together for the next few years, he could honestly now say to himself he would only be there for Ben. He might’ve only known him for a few years, but he loved that kid like he was his own. Dean pushed the ring box further down the duffle bag, made short work of the cuff links and belt, then slid the jacket over his shoulders.

“Ready Lisa?” He stepped out on the balcony where she stood.

“I stood here every night while you were away. Wondering what you were doing, if you were having fun. If you missed me? I was sitting out here when you called me.” She turned and looked at Dean for the first time since he’d disappeared into the bathroom. “We should get going. The night’s not getting any younger.” She smiled and headed for the door.

If asked, Dean couldn’t have said what they talked about for the rest of the night. They ate at a restaurant and although the food was likely very good, Dean didn’t taste it. They stopped and watched the fountains at the Bellagio and walked back to Purgatory. Dean hadn’t been ready to go back to their room so they went into one of the bars. Not the western themed one Cas had propositioned him in. Dean drank a lot and eventually Lisa had needed to threaten to get help carrying him up to their room before he’d walked out of his own accord.

Once in the room, he’d carefully removed his shoes, suit and shirt, laying the clothing over the back of a chair before he’d climbed into the bed still dressed in boxers, undershirt and socks. He’d pulled the blankets up and clung to the side of the bed, back to Lisa, praying she’d leave him alone for the night.

The next morning, his head throbbing with the hangover he deserved after his heavy night of drinking, he’d eased out of the bed and rehung the suit and shirt in the garment bag. He pulled jeans, shirt and flannel out of the duffle bag and tucked everything else into it, including his helmet, boots and backpack. He’d take the garment bag as carry-on and check the duffle. He pulled the ring box out and pocketed it. It was still early, Lisa was asleep, he needed to get rid of the ring before she ever knew it existed.

He left the room quietly and made his way out onto the Strip. This was Vegas, there had to be pawn shops everywhere, so it shouldn’t be too hard to find one. He was offered a pittance of what he spent on the ring but couldn’t bring himself to care. In fact, he tucked the money into a homeless man’s cup on his walk back to the hotel. Dean ignored the man’s blessings, he just wanted all evidence of the damn thing gone.

Lisa was awake when he let himself back into the room. Already dressed and obviously waiting for him. “I tried calling you, but you left your phone.” She pointed to it, still sitting on the bench at the end of the bed where he’d tossed it last night. He lunged to pick it up. Who knew who might have tried calling him? Apparently no one had, just the one missed call from Lisa. “Dean?” Her voice full of worry. “Are…?” She didn’t know what she wanted to ask. “Do you want to order room service or go down for the buffet breakfast?”

“Well, since we’re both dressed an’ it’s our last morning, let’s go overeat.” Dean put his phone in his pocket and held the door open for Lisa. They made their way downstairs and Dean ignored the looks Lisa shot him. “We’re back on a plane in three hours, Lisa. I’m stressed about that,” he told her over pancakes, bacon and strawberries. He sipped from a cup of coffee, a glass of pineapple juice waiting for him.

She tilted her head to the side and studied Dean. Lisa knew something was going on with him, but wasn’t sure if she should push or not. Deciding to hold off, to give him a few days to work it out on his own first, she nodded. “Okay Dean.” She drank her cup of coffee and instead studied the china pattern. Tracing her nail over the design she tried for something innocuous. “Do you still have Xanax for the flight home?” He agreed and, after reminding Dean to put them in her handbag for the trip, she allowed the conversation to die.

Checking out of the hotel was a simple matter of collecting their already-packed luggage from the room. Lisa did a quick sweep to make sure nothing was being left behind and Dean handed her the orange bottle of pills. She extended the arm on her suitcase and wheeled it out of the room, her carry-on bag sitting on top. Dean slung his duffle over his shoulder and picked up the garment bag, which he’d folded twice and clipped together to form a roll.

The previous night she’d drawn the last of the money off the card they’d been given as part of their prize. She’d had to do so as chips, but she gave those to Dean and asked him to go and cash them while she took care of their checkout. A bellhop placed all their bags on a trolley and met them out the front, a taxi already hailed and waiting for them when Dean walked up.

The ride to the airport was quiet. Dean only asked as they walked in and checked their baggage if Lisa had any water so he could take his pills now, prior to going through security. She didn’t because she hadn’t expected Dean to take them until they were at the boarding gate. Lisa looked around and saw a coffee cart and, leaving her carry-on with Dean, hurried over to it and bought a bottle of water.

Dean took two pills and drained the bottle on the walk to security. Lisa knew the rest of the trip was going to be a blur for Dean now and settled into the task of keeping him moving in the right direction.


	20. My Shoes Are Too Tight And I Have Forgotten How To Dance.

**Tuesday, 13th August 2013.**

“Dean?” Lisa called again. They’d been back for more than a month and instead of re-finding each other, Lisa knew they were drifting further and further apart.

Dean looked up from where he was sitting on the bed looking down at his shoes. “Sorry Lisa, did you say something?”

That was another thing that told Lisa things were wrong between them. Dean hadn’t called her Lis once since that phone call.

That phone call had filled her with dread after he’d made it. She could still remember everything Dean had said.

_“Hey Lis,” he’d started and she’d questioned why he was calling after they’d both agreed no calls while he was away. “I know, we said we weren’t going to. I just wanted to check in with you. Make sure that we’re okay. That we’re going to be okay once this is all over.” And Lisa had laughed. At the time she couldn’t imagine anything coming between them, so she’d told him he was being silly and he’d laughed with her. “Yeah I guess I am. It’s just…” he’d paused. “It’s different to what I thought it was going to be.” That was, in hindsight, the first sign she’d been given that something was wrong. But at the time, she’d just been worried about Castiel treating Dean badly. “Not bad, no. Just... Look I don’t know what I thought this was going to be.” There’d been another pause then. “I miss you.” She’d told Dean she missed him too and that he needed to look after himself. “Thanks Lis,” he’d said and hung up._

That was it, the last time that he’d called her Lis. She was sure of it. She kept waiting to hear him say it again, almost seven weeks later and he still hadn’t. “We need to talk,” she repeated.

Dean was looking at his shoes again. They were his work boots and she didn’t know why he was wearing them inside, let alone in the bedroom. But there he was, sitting on the bed looking at his work boots.

“There is a scene in _Babylon 5_ with Londo Mollari. I can’t remember who he’s talking to, maybe Vir Cotto, maybe someone else.” Lisa wanted to interrupt. They needed to talk about what was happening with them. However, this was the most Dean had said to her, of his own volition, for more than two weeks, so she waited to see where he was going with it.

“He was sitting in the garden and looking at his shoes,” Dean waved down at his, “and he talks about finding his father in a similar pose when he was a child. His father said to him ‘My shoes are too tight, but it doesn’t matter because I have forgotten how to dance.’ Londo tells Vir? Not Vir?” Dean shrugged, “that he didn’t understand what his father meant at the time but now he does because,” at this point Dean slipped into his best impersonation of Londo Mollari’s accent, “‘My shoes are too tight and I have forgotten how to dance’.”

“Lisa, _my_ shoes are too tight. I have _forgotten_ how to dance.” Dean pulled his boots off and sat them neatly beside him. He looked up at her and her heart broke at the sadness in his eyes. “I need to go or I’m...” He stopped and took a breath. “I just need to be by myself tonight. Can we talk tomorrow?” He got up and walked out the door and down the hall.

Lisa sat on the bed and wondered how many more times she’d watch Dean walk away from her. She guessed there was a limited number left and soon Dean was going to walk out of her life. Lisa wasn’t even sure if she should fight it. She picked up the boots and carried them to the utility room. The sound of the Impala driving away from the house was the sad soundtrack to her internal thoughts.

Lisa had been so sure the deal with Castiel would be a good thing. She’d thought Dean having sex with another man would loosen him up. That he’d stop holding on so tightly and that once he’d let go, he’d be happier. More in touch with himself, at peace with who he was and out from under the cloud that was John Winchester. She hadn’t counted on the experience rocking Dean to his very core. She thought they were strong, but they weren’t.

Lisa had been blinded by her own history. She thought Dean would react the same way she had her first time in an open relationship. While Lisa had found security in freedom, Dean seemed cut off and adrift. A boat without a rudder. A ship without a lighthouse to guide him home. It was easy to see 20/20 in hindsight. “My god, how many cheesy clichés can I think of?”

“Mom?” Ben was standing in the doorway to the kitchen. “Were you talking to me?”

“No, Baby, just myself.” She tousled his hair knowing he hated it. “What did you want for dinner Sweetie?”

  


.oOo.

  


Dean knew he couldn’t go on like this. He was sitting in his Baby, staring at bleachers, not knowing how he got here. Something had to give but he just didn’t know what. All he could hear over and over was Lisa saying they needed to talk. Dean knew she was right, but their last conversation hadn’t gone so well.

Dean had made an appointment with a financial advisor and asked Lisa to meet him at the guy’s office so they could work out what to do with the money. It hadn’t gone well. They’d ended up in a screaming match in the poor man’s office. Lisa had already been to see a financial advisor, without telling Dean. She’d already paid off her house, set up a trust fund for Ben and arranged two separate managed funds - one which would pay her a monthly stipend to cover her bills and another to diversify her portfolio. The remaining money had been rolled over into her 401k.

Dean had been upset she’d done it, not just without him, but without any plan for how the other half of the money sitting in his account was to be used. The argument had rapidly transitioned from what to do with the money, to how the money was earned in the first place. Because while Dean didn’t regret spending the week with Cas, he resented that Lisa had pushed him into doing so. Even if he knew that wasn’t true, that they’d decided together, a small part of him wanted to blame Lisa for the pain he felt.

“I would never do this for myself. It was all for you,” Dean had lashed out at Lisa.

“Don't lie to me! You were attracted to him!” she’d yelled back and she was right. Dean had been attracted to Castiel, was still attracted to Castiel. Wanted nothing more than to run back to him, but that hadn’t been the agreement. Eight nights, five million dollars, never to see each other again. Dean hated it and, at that moment, hated Lisa for it.

It wasn’t that they didn’t talk to each other after that. It was just everything they said was, “Ben needs to be picked up from his Boys and Girls Club tonight, can you do it?” and “We’re out of milk. Can you pick some up on your way home?” Or was it half and half? Dean hadn’t remembered and had forgotten to get either.

He started the car and drove to Bobby’s. When Cas had asked for his address, he’d given him Bobby’s instead of Lisa’s and that was where his Princess had been delivered. He didn’t know how to tell Lisa he now owned a motorcycle. Lisa knew he and Cas had ridden from San Francisco to Las Vegas together but he’d let her assume he’d ridden one of Cas’ bikes. She’d made a lot of assumptions about Cas and he’d let her. He didn’t know how to defend Cas without talking about what happened during that week.

He pulled up to Bobby’s house and got out, climbed onto the porch and sat heavily on one of the chairs. The door opened and Bobby stepped out and handed him a beer. He sat in the second chair, but made no attempt to talk. The two men sat for a long time nursing the beers they held. Eventually, the last sips taken, Bobby held his hand out for Dean’s bottle. He got up and left the porch, heading to the side of the house where the bins were.

Dean sat. He knew Bobby would talk when he thought Dean was ready to hear what he had to say. Dean wasn’t sure if that was going to be tonight or not, so he sat and watched Bobby. The older man climbed back onto the porch and looked at Dean. “Idjit,” he muttered and went inside, then called out. “You comin’ in or not?” Last night and the night before, every night for the past few weeks in fact, Bobby had shared a beer with Dean then told him to go home.

Dean stood and followed Bobby inside. “I don’t know what happened while you were away boy, but what I do know is you ain’t been happy for a long time.” He pulled two glasses down from an overhead cupboard and a bottle of rotgut whiskey from above the fridge. He looked at Dean, possibly to see if Dean was going to say anything.

Dean decided to keep quiet, wait out Bobby, see what he’d say. God knew Dean needed some clarity in his life right now. Maybe Bobby could provide it, as he had so many other times during Dean’s life.

Bobby free-poured into the glasses and told Dean to sit, pointing at the kitchen table. “I’m not saying you were sad. Not beforehand. But ya are now. Ever since ya got back, just miserable. The only time I’ve seen you close to happy was when that bike showed up.”

Dean didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t deny it. He was miserable. Looking at the bike was bittersweet, a reminder of what he didn’t have, what he couldn’t have. “Can I stay here?” Dean asked quietly. “Just ‘til I find somewhere?”

Bobby stood up and went to move through the kitchen towards his study and the staircase beyond., but he paused behind Dean. Bobby rested his hand on Dean’s shoulder. “I’ll put fresh linens on the end of your bed. Call Lisa and let her know you’re staying here tonight. She don’t need to worry if you’re dead in the gutter.”

“Thanks Bobby.” Dean drained the glass and poured a second. He put the bottle away. He knew tomorrow was going to be difficult enough without being hungover as well. He picked the glass up and headed back out to the porch to make the call. Sitting on the rocker he looked at his phone, scrolling through the contacts, staring at Cas’ name. He swallowed the whiskey and scrolled past to Lisa’s name. He selected the text message option.

 **Dean to Lisa 23:08:** At bobbys

 **Dean to Lisa 23:09:** Im gonna get my stuff tomorrow

 **Dean to Lisa 23:09:** Please dont be there

His phone started ringing but he ignored it

 **Lisa to Dean 23:12:** What? Why? Dean talk to me.

 **Dean to Lisa 23:25:** Im sorry lisa I cant

He switched his phone off and went inside, upstairs to his old room. He made the bed and opened the dresser drawers. Even after he’d moved out and found his own apartment, even after moving in with Lisa, he’d still stayed at Bobby’s often enough that he had clothes there. He pulled out a clean pair of boxer briefs and a threadbare t-shirt and headed to the bathroom for a shower. Dean smiled. Bobby had found a fresh toothbrush and left it beside the sink. He climbed into his old twin bed, hair still damp and fell into an exhausted sleep.


	21. It Wasn’t Meant To End Like This.

Dean pulled up in front of Lisa’s an hour after she should’ve left for work, driving an old pickup truck Bobby had in his yard that still ran. He reversed into the drive and pulled up as close to the front door as he could. He dusted his hands off against his thighs, more to clear his head since his hands were clean. He stood looking at Lisa’s house, taking in the fact he no longer thought of it as his home and wondered if he ever had.

“Well, standing ‘round ain’t getting nothin’ done,” he muttered to himself and walked up to the garage, opening the door. He’d start in here with his tools. Only once he started looking for them, he realized the vast majority of his tools were already at Bobby’s. When he’d first moved out and rented his own apartment, it had come with a parking spot but not anywhere he could work on his Baby, let alone space to store his tools. Bobby told him to keep using the back shed because he didn’t have a pressing need for it.

Then, after he’d moved in with Lisa, he’d just left most of his tools in Bobby’s shed. It was easier to work on his Baby there than here at Lisa’s. He always worried about getting her space dirty. He looked around the double garage. He had a tool box on a cheap bench along the back wall. Simple tools, for minor household repairs. He walked over to it and checked its contents. There wasn’t anything in there that he didn’t have back at Bobby’s, so he decided to leave it. He’d thrown out the hodgepodge of tools Lisa had when he’d moved in. Leaving her this set was the least he could do.

He entered the house from the garage and took his shoes off. He would be here packing for a little while so there was no need to track his dirty shoes all over the house. He looked around the kitchen. Everything here was Lisa’s, or things he’d bought for Lisa, even if he was the one who used them more. Lisa was a great cook but Dean was the better baker. But he couldn’t imagine taking the KitchenAid he’d bought her, or any of the other bits and pieces. They all belonged here, with her, unlike Dean himself.

His books sitting on a shelf in the hallway were a different matter. He’d had most of them long before he’d even met Lisa, so he went back out to the truck to grab the boxes he’d brought with him. As he walked back into the house he discovered Lisa standing next to the books, his copy of Slaughterhouse Five in her hands.

“I wondered what you’d pack first. I should’ve known it’d be the books.” She slid the book back into its spot. “I parked my car at Brig’s early this morning and got her to drop me back here. I didn’t think you’d come in if you thought I was home.” Lisa was still looking at the books, running her fingers along the spines.

“I wouldn’t have,” he agreed. “I’m sorry, Lisa.” He put the boxes down and ran his fingers through his hair. “Do you want to sit and talk?” He walked around her and kept his hands busy with the coffee maker. He heard her open the fridge and pull things out of it, but he kept his eyes on what he was doing. Filter, grounds, water, switch the machine on. Lisa placed the milk and the cake tin in the center of the table, then added cups, plates, spoons and forks and was grabbing the sugar bowl before either spoke.

“Thank you for the cake,” she said. Dean had left work early yesterday, came home and baked lemon syrup cake before Lisa had found him in the bedroom. He’d forgotten to tell her about it before he left, but a single slice had been removed so either she or Ben had found it last night.

“I needed to think,” he replied. Normally he did his best thinking with his hands in an engine bay, but occasionally he turned to baking. Yesterday had been like that. He’d found no solace replacing brake pads, so he’d asked Bobby if he could go early then came back to Lisa’s and baked.

“I knew. I guess I always knew really, but I knew a week after you bought the ring.”

“Lisa.” Dean’s voice was pain filled. He hadn’t realized Lisa knew about the ring. It made him feel even worse about the situation they found themselves in.

“No, let me finish,” she held a hand up. “You’re not nearly as good at hiding things as you think you are. Not in this house anyway. Everything is either in your sock drawer or the toolbox. Both of which I need to go into.” She shook her head at him. “I found the ring, I’m guessing within days of you buying it. It wasn’t there one washing day, but was there the next. It was a beautiful ring, Dean, but I’m glad you never gave it to me.”

Lisa got up and brought the coffee pot back to the table before continuing. “We were good while we lasted, but we were never great, you know?” She waited until he nodded his agreement. “It took finding that ring for me to see it.” She hesitated. “No, that’s not true. It took you cooking a great meal on a night Ben wasn’t coming home, then not giving me the ring, to make me really look at our relationship.” She added too much milk to her coffee just so she could take large swallows of it.

“I never meant to hurt you,” Dean started. “I thought that this...” he waved his hand around, encompassing both Lisa and the house, “was what I wanted. The American Dream. All of it, the white picket fence, wife, kids.” He picked at the table cloth. “I... I didn’t know, Lis, if there was anyone I could’ve had this with. I wanted it to be you.”

Lisa smiled. It was good hearing him say Lis again and that more than anything told her that no matter what else happened, they were still friends. “Have I ever told you I love you?” she asked.

“No.”

“I do.”

“Still?” Dean asked.

Lisa grabbed his hand. “Always.” She stood and started packing up the mess on the table. In the end, they hadn’t cut a slice of Dean’s cake, but Lisa didn’t regret having pulled it out. All the notes of domestic bliss, sitting on the table, acting as a reminder that this wasn’t meant for them. “Come on, your stuff’s not going to pack itself.”

They worked for an hour mostly in silence, packing the few belongings Dean had in the main sections of the house. His books filled a single box, his records were already in a sturdy case Lisa had bought him for his birthday, near the old portable record player he’d bought in a secondhand shop with his first paycheck from Bobby.

He’d earned money before then, but it wasn’t until they’d moved in with Bobby that Dean had spent any of his money on himself. Because when Dean had tried to use that money to buy Sam a new winter coat, Bobby had found the receipt and physically shoved money back into his pocket, telling him it wasn’t his responsibility to look after Sammy. It shouldn’t have been his job at any time, but Bobby would make sure John did that from now on. Bobby was good on his word but that hadn’t stopped Dean from putting almost half of his pay into Sam’s bank account for years.

That old record player held a special place in Dean’s heart, it signified so much to him. It was the beginning of his new life. It was the knowledge that even if John moved, he and Sam wouldn’t need to go with him. Dean had stability here in Sioux Falls, the ability to look after Sam and himself. It had meant Sam could stay in the same school and get the education he deserved. Dean stroked the beat-up leather cover as he carried it out to the truck.

He was a little sad to realize he hadn’t needed the pickup after all. Everything he owned, everything he was taking with him, would easily fit in the trunk and backseat of his Baby. He thought back to when he moved into Lisa’s. Surely he’d had more things after living in an apartment by himself for ten years. But he’d moved into it fully furnished and the only things he’d taken out of it that he didn’t have now were a bunch of linens and towels, all of which he’d torn up for rags over the past year.

He stood in the family bathroom and looked at the toiletries he needed to pack. A toothbrush, razor, deodorant and cologne. He left the bottle of shampoo because he knew Ben preferred using his to the one Lisa bought for herself. They’d all shared the same tube of toothpaste. He’d never tell anyone but Dean had also used Lisa’s shaving cream because he liked how soft it left his skin. He added buying a can of the foaming gel to the list of shopping he needed to pick up. He didn’t care. At 34-years-old he was secure enough in his masculinity to buy whichever products he wanted from the hygiene aisle. Women’s shaving cream would be easy after all the times he’d bought Lisa tampons.

He zipped up the small bag with its meager contents and went to add it to his duffle bag. He’d been surprised to find Lisa had already packed his clothes for him, but she’d explained that after she’d received his texts last night she’d needed to do something. So his duffle bag was full, as were two garbage bags and the garment bag he’d brought back from San Francisco. A half-empty box held his shoes and that was it. Everything he owned.

“Are you done?” she asked from the door.

“Yeah, this is the last of it.” Dean hefted the bag to his shoulder and grabbed his shoes from the mud room, putting them on. “What did you say to Ben?” He’d been scared to ask, but with everything packed and already in the truck, there was nothing left.

“I haven’t yet,” she said as she walked out with Dean. “I was hoping you’d be okay with coming back tonight, we could talk to him together?” she shrugged.

Dean dropped the bag into the truck’s tray. “Yeah, I can do that. Come here,” he said, pulling her in for a hug. “We tried,” he said into her hair.

“We did.” She nodded her face against his chest. Pulling back, she held his face in her hand. “Friends?” 

“Friends.” He smiled at her and, holding her hand to his cheek, he turned his face and kissed the palm of her hand. Letting go, he opened the driver’s door. “Do you want a lift to Brigitta’s so you can get your car?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Dean.” Lisa’s voice was husky and Dean realized that while they were good, Lisa was still mourning and needed time.

“Do you still want me to come over tonight?” he asked softly.

“Around five would be good. That’s when Ben should be getting in.” She headed back into the house, not turning to look at him once. Dean waited until the door was closed and headed back to Bobby’s.

  


.oOo.

  


He pulled up in front of Lisa’s just before 5pm. He’d hoped to get there before Ben returned home, however Ben was waiting on the front stoop for him. Dean noticed as he came running up to the Impala that Ben’s hair around his face was wet, like he’d just splashed himself with water. When he opened the door and poked his head into the car, Dean could see his eyes were red-rimmed.

“Hey Dean,” despite outward appearances, Ben spoke calmly. “You should leave. Now isn’t a good time for you to be here.”

“Are you okay?” Dean looked up at the house, noting Lisa’s car was back in the driveway and Sid’s car was there as well. “What’s going on, Buddy?” Dean gestured for Ben to hop in the car and then pulled him into a hug.

Ben relaxed into Dean’s arms for all of three seconds before pulling himself away. As an adolescent, he was hyper aware of appearing childish. Sometime in the last year he’d decided men didn’t hug. Dean hoped it wasn’t an attitude that Ben had picked up from him somehow.

“I knew something was up this morning, so I left Boys and Girls Club at lunch.” He sat and stared out the windscreen not making eye contact as he talked. “Aunty Brig was already here and Mom’s been trying to tell her everything is okay, but Aunty Brig just keeps pouring Mom more wine and calling you a dick for leaving.”

“You know your Mom and I separated?” Dean wasn’t sure what to say. He thought he’d been coming over to break the news to Ben.

“Well yeah. It’s been obvious you guys are breaking up.” At Dean’s stunned face, Ben told him he’d watched several of his friend’s parents divorce. “Thank you, Dean. For not fighting with Mom, I mean.” Ben looked at him for the first time since he’d pulled out of the hug. “I know Aunty Brig and Uncle Sid aren’t listening to Mom right now, but I know you’re a good guy. That’s why you need to leave now ‘n’ not come back.” Ben shuffled over the seat and hugged Dean for a long time, muttering into his shoulder. “Not for a long time.”

“If you ever need me, for anything, call me.” Dean held Ben tight, feeling Ben nodding into his chest. They both had tears in their eyes when they pulled apart. Dean kissed Ben on the forehead and watched the young man get out of his car. “No matter where I am, I’ll always be here for you.”

Ben closed the car door and smiled sadly. “It’s okay, Dean. We did fine before you moved in and we’ll be fine now as well. You should… I just want you to know that.” Dean knew Ben’s words were meant to be reassuring, but they cut him deeper than anything Lisa had said. He put the Impala into drive and, a tear sliding down his cheek, pulled away. He watched Ben stand on the curb in his rearview mirror, his shoulders square, the mantle of ‘man of the house’ resting on them.

Dean didn’t know how he didn’t have an accident before the road curved and he couldn’t see Ben anymore. He didn’t make it much further than that, needing to stop the car and clear his blurring vision. When he finally made it back to Bobby’s he grabbed the rotgut and finished drinking it straight from the bottle.

  


.oOo.

  


**Monday, 28th August 2013.**

“Hey Sammy.” Dean had his phone on speaker as he worked on his Baby. He’d been living at Bobby’s for two weeks and even though Bobby said he could continue doing so for as long as he wanted, Dean knew he had to leave. Not just Bobby’s house, but Sioux Falls entirely. He’d been shut out of his old haunts, either because they were places Lisa and Ben were likely to be, or he’d run into Lisa’s friends one too many times.

This past week, the only places Dean had gone to were Bobby’s shop for work, which since it was on the same property didn’t feel like it counted, and the bar down the street. Those three (two?) locations seemed to be the only ones Dean had won in the breakup. He couldn’t even go to his favorite diner any more. The last time he had, Brigitta and Sid had been there and the waitress had stopped smiling at him after they’d pulled her aside and spoken with her. Dean left double his usual tip and decided to never go back.

“What’s up, Dean?” Sam sounded busy.

“I... uhmm... I was hoping it’d be okay if I came out and stayed with you for a little bit?” Dean ran his hand over his face.

“Sure Dean, when do you want to come out?” Sam’s voice sharpened in focus, while softening in intensity.

“Well, that’s the thing. I want to stay with you while I look for a place of my own out there. I’m going to transfer to Berkeley. So I need you to fly out and drive Baby for me while I ride Princess.”

“Okay, look, I’ll need to take some time off work. Let me call you back tomorrow. I guess you want to get out here as soon as you can?”

“Yeah Sam, that’d be good.” They quickly exchanged goodbyes and Dean hung up.

“That Sam?” Bobby asked when Dean re-entered the kitchen.

“Yeah, he’s good.” Dean pulled a couple of beers out of the fridge. Popping the lids off both, he handed the second to the grizzled older man.

“Good. You talk to your college advisor today?” Bobby knew Dean’s plans to get out of Sioux Falls, or at least the parts Dean was comfortable sharing. Bobby thought Dean was going to Berkeley as a transfer student, which was the same story he’d tell Sam. Which was true, but not the whole truth. He’d talked with both his advisor here and with Berkeley’s admissions office last week. The only way for him to get in the architectural program he wanted was to pay for the course in full and enroll as a brand new mature aged student. He wouldn’t receive any credits for the studies he’d done at his local community college, but at least he had the experiences to help with his transition into a full-time university student.

The move, the course, finding somewhere to live that wasn’t Sam’s spare room, all of it, was only possible because of Cas’ money. All of it, only achievable because of Cas. Just the smallest thought of him had Dean’s heart quickening, so he shut it down fast. Thinking about Castiel Novak was a dark path and it would dredge up all sorts of feelings Dean wasn’t capable of having right now, or ever.

“Everything is green, super green, any kind of green you like.” Dean tilted his bottle in salute. He’d be out of here soon. Hell, he decided, if Sam couldn’t get time off before his classes started, he’d just drive Baby out by himself and pay for Princess to be shipped, the same way she’d come out here to start with. Dean had the money to do it. Now he wondered why he hadn’t thought to do that to start with. But he knew why. He still wasn’t used to having so much money. He wondered, not for the first time, if he ever would.


	22. All By Myself.

Sam and Jess flew into Sioux Falls a week later and the three of them made their way across country. It had taken Dean a solid month of searching but he’d found an apartment which had once been a floor of a much grander house. Its selling points were a lockup garage large enough to fit both his Baby and his Princess and within walking distance of the Berkeley Campus although, to be fair, it was a long walk.

He’d knuckled down and studied hard for the first year and heading into the summer break he’d found a job in a local garage, just so he’d have something to do. It wasn’t so bad while he’d been attending classes during the year. He’d filled all of his time with classes and studying and made a point of riding over and visiting Sam and Jess every Sunday for brunch. But the idea of spending the summer with nothing to do terrified him in a way he refused to think about.

By the end of the summer, he knew he’d made a mistake. He wasn’t meant to be an architect. He’d been in the top five percent of his class, but he never felt any joy while he was working on his class projects. He brought it up one Sunday morning while he was at Sam and Jess’. “I’m dropping out of school,” he’d told them. He thought they would try to talk him out of it and Jess did try, but Sam understood.

Dean had spent his childhood drawing houses, first just as pictures, then as he got older he’d drawn house plans on every scrap of paper he’d come across. He’d eventually stopped and he thought he’d just grown out of it until he’d started dating Lisa. Dean had needed to defend Lisa when he’d told Sam and Jess about it. Jess thought Dean taking night classes had been all Lisa’s idea, like Lisa hadn’t been able to accept Dean as a mechanic and that she’d needed him to _better_ himself.

Which was and wasn’t true. Lisa _had_ talked him into pursuing his childhood dream, but it was because she’d wanted Dean to be the best he could be, for himself. She hadn’t pushed, she’d encouraged, Dean enrolled himself because he’d thought it was what he’d wanted.

It wasn’t until he’d thrown himself all-in here at Berkeley and then spent the summer working at Turner Motors that Dean realized he was happiest when he was elbow-deep in an engine. Working out what was wrong; fixing whatever problem had brought a car into the shop. Listening to an engine arrive spluttering and leave purring. Dean loved being a mechanic.

“Dean, do you remember when you stopped drawing houses?” Sam asked.

“When I was a teenager I think,” he replied, but wasn’t sure of his answer. He hadn’t been able to give Lisa a definitive answer either when she’d asked the same question years ago.

“I remember,” Sam told him. “It was on the drive to Sioux Falls. Once we got there and Bobby told us no matter what we had a home with him, you stopped.”

Dean didn’t know what to say to that. The implications were clear to him and they fit. It felt right.

Looking back and forth between them, Jess asked the question, “What does that have to do with anything?”

“What did you want to be when you were a child, Jess?”

“I wanted to be a ballerina,” she replied, clearly unhappy with how the conversation was playing out.

“Did you really want to be a ballerina? Or did you want to be what you thought a ballerina was?” Sam questioned.

“I…” she hesitated, thinking about what Sam was asking. “I thought I wanted to be a ballerina, but I didn’t really know what that meant in an adult world. What I wanted was to be graceful and elegant and a bunch of other things I didn’t know how to articulate.” She looked at Dean with newfound understanding. “You never wanted to be an architect, you didn’t want to design buildings.”

“No,” he agreed. “But I didn’t realize that until this summer.”

  


.oOo.

  


**Monday, 27th November 2017**

Dean wiped his hands on the rag he pulled from the back pocket of his overalls. He’d torn the arms off a couple of years ago and grease smears extended up his lower arms from where he’d rubbed against the old motor. “Well old girl, that should be it,” he spoke to the car as he pulled her door open and slid down into her seat. He fingered the keys for a moment before turning them. She coughed once then spluttered a little before the engine smoothed out into a low rumble. “That’s it, Beautiful,” he spoke quietly as he revved the engine just for the pure joy of hearing her come to life.

“You got it running?” Rufus, his boss, leaned in through the still-open door.

“I told you she just needed some love,” Dean grinned up at him.

“I’ll be damned. You better go take her for a run and make sure you got all her kinks worked out.” Rufus hadn’t believed him when Dean said he could get the ’73 Datsun 240Z purring like a kitten. Dean stood his ground, saying so long as everyone treated her like she was crap, that’s how she was going to act.

When Dean had taken over her work, the first thing he’d done was name her Beautiful and give her a complete detail. Wash, wax, the works. Only once she was shining had Dean started working on her engine. That’d been four weeks ago. Now Dean was backing her out of Turner Motors and taking her for a quick spin. If nothing rattled loose, he’d give her another detail and phone her owner, telling the young girl her chariot awaited.

Turner Motors had gained a steady reputation in the restoration game these past few years. They weren’t a full service shop – and they would need to branch out into paint work and start refitting interiors if they wanted to claim that – but there wasn’t an engine Dean couldn’t fix, Garth was a beast with his body work and Ash was a magician with all the newer cars and their electronic systems.

Dean sat back in the bucket seat he’d custom ordered for Claire, the girl whose car this was. He merged into highway traffic so he could bring the engine up to speed and cruised a couple of miles down the road before taking an exit and working his way back through side streets. Stopping and starting so much was its own stress test on the engine. Happy with how she performed, Dean parked her in the little lot down the road from the shop.

It was almost knock off time and Claire would be just as excited with a phone call tomorrow as she would be with one today. He locked the car and, since he was there, locked the gates securing their offsite lot.

His head clear from the drive, Dean turned back to his current problem. Rufus wanted to retire. He’d offered to sell the majority of the business to Dean. He wanted to keep a percentage of the business, small enough to be a silent partner, but large enough that he’d still be paid a monthly stipend. It had seemed like a good deal until he’d asked Sam to check the agreement.

Neither Sam nor Dean were sure if it was intentional but there were some worrying clauses in the contract Rufus had given Dean. It was possible Rufus wasn’t aware of them because he did have a habit of calling his lawyer a _"shady dirt-bag"_ who he didn’t trust. Rufus even insisted Dean give the contract to his smarty-pants lawyer brother, as he referred to Sam, to check.

Dean wanted to believe it was all a misunderstanding and Rufus wasn’t trying to put him over a barrel. To that effect, Sam had re-written the contract and given it to Dean over the Thanksgiving break. He just needed to talk to Rufus about it. He decided he couldn’t put it off any longer and called out to the old man as he walked back through the roller doors. “Rufus, what are your plans for tonight? I wanna take you to Benny’s, my treat.”

Rufus grunted his agreement and told Dean to get across and order him a bowl of gumbo. He’d finish up with the last customer and follow in a few minutes.

Benny’s was a Creole fusion place almost directly across the road. Dean ate lunch there multiple times during the week, but rarely went in after work because usually he just wanted to get home to shower and change. He pushed the door open and greeted the owner’s wife by name. “Hey, Andrea, you okay if Rufus and I steal a table for a bit? We promise to be out before the dinner crowd shows up.” He gave her his most winning smile.

“Dean!” She sounded and looked shocked seeing him walk in and her eyes kept darting to the lone occupied table. It was positioned next to the window, on the far wall. The table Dean knew from experience had the best view of the garage, right into the workshop while the doors were open during the day.

Currently it was occupied by a single person, a man Dean never thought he would see again, even while he spent too much time looking for him anytime he was in the city. “Cas?” He ignored anything Andrea was trying to say as he wove between the tables.

Castiel stood up and extended his hand in greeting. “Hello Dean.”


End file.
